


Smoke and Mirrors

by Oakstone730



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM Scene, Bondage and Discipline, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post - Deathly Hallows, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakstone730/pseuds/Oakstone730
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie seeks out transient encounters to relieve the stress of dragon-wrangling after losing his partner Remus. When the mysterious Dom known only as Black offers him an unusual contract, he can't say no.<br/>Time frame: 2008-2009. AU: Remus/Tonks & epilogue Harry/Ginny never happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The streets were nearly empty. A solitary car was driving towards him, its headlights shining on the rain-slick street. Charlie ducked into the doorway of a building, pulling out the packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket; tapping one out he waited for the car to pass. Cupping a match with his hand, he struck it against the brick and quickly lit the cigarette. The first hit of menthol hit his lungs and he closed his eyes, relishing in the burn. He only ever smoked when he came to Paris.

The car came to a stop in front of the club entrance, a black taxi cab, and let off its passenger. Charlie caught just a glimpse of the man’s face as the street lamp cast light on his face as he turned to look up and down the street before hurrying up the stairs and into the unmarked entrance of the club. He was unfamiliar to Charlie, but then most of the club members were, Charlie only visited when he could no longer stay away. This was the longest he’d ever gone between visits, four months.

He finished the cigarette, taking long drags and releasing the smoke slowly, still disoriented from the series of apparations that he’d needed to get from the dragon reserve to Paris. He’d rested in the hotel room, but hadn’t been able to sleep, the call of the club was too strong--he was so close to finding the release that he needed.

Stubbing the cigarette butt out against the doorway, he flicked it into a trash bin as he made his way across the street to the club. The door swung open before he reached the top step and he was in the small entranceway where two wizards in dark suits stood waiting. “ _Bonsoir, Monsieur_ ,” the man said politely as he extended a silver tray. Charlie pulled a small scroll of black parchment out of his jacket pocket and lay it on the tray, before starting to take off his jacket. The scroll contained his preferences and membership information.

The man waved his wand over it and a spray of gold sparks burst from his wand. Charlie looked at the gold color, his jacket still only half off, there should have been purple sparks. The man did it again with the same results. “Pardon me, sir.” The man walked quickly down the corridor and into an office, and Charlie felt a tremor of fear that he might be denied entry.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked the remaining wizard who was guarding the exit. The man shrugged, and shook his head. Charlie ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he waited.

The man returned with the club manager, a short robust man whom Charlie had met for the first time the last time he was there. The manager said in accented English, “Good evening, monsieur. I apologize for the delay. There is, of course, no problem with your entry, but an opportunity has arisen for you.”

Charlie stared at him in disbelief, he only wanted to get into the club. “Do I have to? I just want to get in--”

“It will just take a moment and I think you may be interested.”

Charlie turned to look at the blue door that led to the preparation rooms and back at the man. Forcing himself to take two deep breaths, he nodded his consent. “Fine, just don’t take too long.”

“Of course, not. This way.” He led Charlie down the corridor and into a small, modern office. Motioning for Charlie to sit down, the man went around the ornate wood desk.

“To not, as you English say, beat around the bush, one of our priority members took notice of you during your last visit and requested that you be offered the liberty of his suite, and the opportunity to see if the two of you could come to an agreement.”

Charlie sat back in surprise. He knew that the more exclusive members of the club members had rooms, for those who wished to take their pleasure privately, but had never been in one.

“Is he here?” Charlie stalled as he considered the ramifications of such an agreement. He hadn’t been a sub to anyone regular since Remus. Instead, he’d come to the club where he never knew who’d take an interest in him for the night, and the results had often been unsatisfactory. It was one of the reasons he stayed away so long between visits.

“Non,” the man said but hastened to say, “We are sending him word that you are here. He left instructions, that if you agree, you be brought to his suite to wait for him. It will be a matter of a half-hour, or less.”

“What if I say no?”

“You are of course welcome to the club, but he will not seek you out on the floor. He prefers the privacy of his suite.”

Charlie lit another cigarette as he debated. He wanted it, but didn’t understand why he’d been selected out of all the subs that were on the floor. He was far from the most attractive and he wasn’t at the club enough to become a favorite of any of the regular doms.

“The gentleman in question is most trustworthy. We’ve never received any complaints.” Sweat was beading on the man’s forehead and Charlie realized how important the mystery client must be. “He understood that you might be hesitant, since you haven’t yet met him, and wished that you be assured that he would just like to talk to you, if you say no, then no harm.”

“Fine.” Charlie stood up and stubbed the cigarette out on the ashtray on the man’s desk, “Where do I go?”

“This way, _monsieur_.” The manager led Charlie up the staircase three levels to a hallway with dark wine colored walls, lit only by sconces. At the far end of the corridor was a gold door. The man tapped his wand to the door and it sprang open. Charlie walked through the doorway and stopped short as he saw the room, it wasn’t anything that he expected to see in such a club.

The suite was sparsely furnished, with modern black leather furniture. The dark wood floor gleamed in the light of the wall sconces. Facing them was a wall of stone with iron rings, another wall was covered with floor to ceiling chocolate brown velvet drapes. No bed, not that that was needed or expected, but none of the typical equipment was anywhere to be seen. The entire room spoke of understated wealth and the random thought went through his head that it was a good thing he’d worn his best ‘city’ clothes to the club.

“The gentleman had the suite decorated to his specifications.” The manager gave a flick of his wand at the far wall and the curtains opened. Charlie stepped forward, he could see the entire exhibition area.

“He wishes his identity to remain a secret, he will be wearing a mask when he arrives.”

“Is he someone famous?” Charlie wondered more and more about who this mystery man was, some on the floor wore half-masks to conceal themselves, most did it for effect rather than to actually conceal their identity.

“I cannot say.”

“Very well.” Charlie was frustrated and vexed at the turn that the night had taken, “How long did you say he will be?”

“Within a half hour. A bell will be rung before he enters, so that you have warning.”

“Thank you.” Charlie turned his back dismissively towards the man. He needed time to think, to settle himself. He closed his eyes and gave a sigh of relief as he heard the manager leave. Running his fingers through his hair in frustration he looked more closely at the room, there was no equipment laying out, most doms proudly displayed their favorite toys. Eyeing the large wardrobe against the far wall, Charlie walked over and pulled the doors open.

The wardrobe was filled with narrow drawers, he pulled out the first one, it was filled with handcuffs, some of leather, others of metal. Charlie picked up a leather one that had metal d-rings sewn into the leather. His cock started to fill as he thought how he could be bound by such cuffs and have the ropes run through the rings, stretching his body taut. Hastily, he set the cuffs back down and opened the next drawer.

There were four bullwhips, coiled and nestled each in its own velvet rest. Charlie picked up the whip closest to him. It was probably a six foot length, not including the cracker and fall. He ran his fingers over the black leather, high quality kangaroo, with a twelve strand overlay that was expertly plaited. The whip was broken in, Charlie thought as he felt the leather, it could take many months, years to get a whip this supple, the whip in his hand had seen much use and had been well cared for. The owner of the suite obviously spared no expense in his equipment, and liked to use it. Setting down the whip in its holder he slid the drawer closed and opened the next.

It held the smaller signal whips of the same quality of the previous drawer. Charlie groaned at the sight of them and had to press his hand against his erection. It really had been too long, if just the heady smell and feel of the oiled leather was getting him hard.

The other drawers contained floggers, cat o’nine tails, crops, and finally, rulers. Charlie laughed when he saw them--simple, wooden rulers that any child had in their school kit. He picked up one up and slapped it against his palm, the sting made him wonder about the man who was comfortable enough to include five knut rulers alongside the more exotic equipment.

Closing the doors of the wardrobe, he paced the room, examining the metal rings that were mounted on the walls, resisting the temptation to run his hands through the loop to test the fit. He was on edge enough without making his need any greater. Next to a small drinks area was a closed door and he put his hand on the doorknob, but stopped himself. Whoever the mystery client was, he might not appreciate a sub who was too forward.

Eyeing the bottles of alcohol he instead poured himself a glass of sparkling water and went to sit on the sofa. He could see clearly what was happening on the floor and his body ached to be down there. He didn’t need some wealthy dom, he just needed relief. Resolutely he pulled the curtains closed and slowly began the deep breathing technique that Remus had taught him long ago.

It was how Remus had started each of their sessions. The whispered strength of his voice had never failed to arouse Charlie as Remus taught him how to control and feed his desires. To find the release that always eluded him before Remus came into his life. It was that release, to be able to completely let go, that he had lost when Remus died.

~|~|~|~

A chime sounded and Charlie stood up, wiping his hands nervously on his trousers as he turned to face the door. The door opened quietly and the man entered, he was dressed in a black shirt and trousers. A black leather half-mask covered his upper face, Charlie appreciated the look against the man’s tan skin. His mouth was attractive with the hint of dimples. The man had a dark five o’clock shadow that made Charlie wonder what it would feel like against his skin.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.” His voice was deep, and English, Charlie realized with surprise and dread. If he was English there was a possibility that the man knew him, or would recognize his trademark Weasley looks, the English wizarding world was a small one.

“It wasn’t long,” Charlie responded. “I wasn’t expecting to be brought here. I just wanted to be out on the floor.”

“I hope they didn’t pressure you to come up. What have they explained?” The dom asked as he walked towards Charlie. He was slender, Charlie thought, his clothes fit snugly and there didn’t appear to be an inch of fat on him.

“That you have an interest in...me.”

“I saw you the last time you were here. I had hoped that you would return sooner than you did.”

“I only come when I must.”

“I’d like to have a session with you. If you don’t want to you are welcome to go to the floor.”

“Do I know you?” Charlie decided to get the question out there, he didn’t want to expose himself unknowingly to someone he knew.

“I am known by many.”

The man hadn’t answered his question and Charlie was tempted to challenge him, but his body was already aching and he just needed the release, it didn’t matter if it came from this man or a Dom on the floor. “Okay. We can do this.”

“Look down there.” The curtains covering the large window opened. “What did you come here for tonight?”

Charlie walked to the window and his eyes went automatically to the flagellation ring. There were three subjects tonight, two bound naked to the circular wall, next to each other. The other tied to a rack in the center of the ring. Two of doms were shirtless, the third was dressed in leather vest and pants, he had a bullwhip and was giving precision flicks to the back of his subject’s legs. Charlie’s cock swelled at the sight.

“Put your arms against the glass.” There was a sharpness to the man’s voice that told him that they were starting. Charlie obeyed the command. He widened his stance and the man was behind him. “Look down at them. Where would you be?” He gripped Charlie’s wrists tightly against the window, as his body pressed in, forcing Charlie’s erection painfully against the glass. Charlie could feel the man’s own hardness pressing against his buttocks. Charlie gave a deep breath that misted on the glass at the relief that the constraint gave him, it wasn’t nearly enough, but a start. “Answer.”

“The blue ring.” He could feel the man’s breath on his neck. The man’s hands tightened on his wrists, his arms pressing against Charlie’s.

“Tell me what you want.”

“To be tied.”

“Like the one on the left?” The man on the left was tied by his arms alone, with enough slack that he could pull away.

Charlie shook his head. “No, tight like the one on the right.” The subject was tied hand and foot to iron rings, his arms stretched above his head, his legs apart. The bright red marks from a crop clearly visible, criss-crossing the sub’s naked back and thighs.

“Crop?”

Charlie closed his eyes as he thought of the crop striking his own skin, it would work but it required the wielder to be so close, he prefered the distance from the person who would be administering the blows.

“No. Whip.”

“Stop word.”

“Bogart.”

“Slowdown word.”

“Doxie.”

Charlie said the words automatically, but the routine made him miss Remus with a pain that cut through the defenses he’d built up since Remus had died. Every time he came to the club, he had to negotiate the same things, he craved to have a partner that knew who he was, understood his body, his needs. What he’d lost ten years ago: the whispered, intimate discussions when they would share their fantasies, the comforting touch of Remus’s hand against his skin as they lay together in bed afterwards, sated and exhausted.

“How do you like it?”

“Unpredictable, never knowing when and where the next strike will hit.”

“There is a bedroom en suite through there.” The dom pointed towards the door that Charlie hadn’t opened. “Prepare yourself, and put on the blindfold that is on the bed. Let me know when you are ready.”

He was reminded with a rush that he wasn’t allowed to see the man’s face. It was difficult trusting someone whom he couldn’t assess what he was made of. He’d never walk into a corral with a dragon without being able to see its face, and now he was going to allow himself to be strapped to a wall and whipped by a complete stranger.

“The door is open, if you’ve changed your mind.”

Charlie opened his eyes and looked down at the arena, anonymous men that he knew no better than the man who was standing behind him. God, he missed Remus. Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.

“Let’s do it.”

~|~|~|~

Ten minutes later he was pressed spread-eagle and naked against the wall, blinded by the cloth tied tightly over his eyes. His left arm was already buckled and the man was fastening his right wrist into the leather cuff that was mounted to the wall. He heard and felt the leather tongues sliding through the metal buckles, three times. Another cuff was fastened around his biceps.

There was no space between him and the wall. Firm hands spread his legs apart farther and he sucked in his breath knowing how exposed his balls and cock were in this position. The man fit the leather cuff around his thigh. With the tightening of each buckle Charlie felt his tension easing. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold and fell into the darkness of this other world, where he could just let go. The loss of his sight heightened his other senses. The cold grit of the stone against his cheek, his stomach, his cock. Through the wall he could hear the faint sound of water, a drain from the roof, perhaps, dripping from the rain.

In contrast to the coldness of the stone, the temperature in room had been raised, Charlie could feel beads of sweat trickling between his shoulder blades.

The sharp sting of a slap on his left buttocks brought him back into the room as the man’s hand slid from his ass, up his back to the nape of the neck. Strong fingers gripped the back of his neck and as the man leaned into Charlie he realized that they were skin to skin. He must have taken off his shirt but left his trousers on, the coldness of a metal belt buckle pressed against his lower back.

“Okay?”

Charlie tested the restraints and he couldn’t move except his head. He nodded his assent.

“I”m going to warm you up with a flogger. Then the whip. Can you take fifteen lashes of the whip?”

Charlie shook his head, “More.”

“Hmmm. Twenty. Then a break, maybe change things up.” Charlie nodded again, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

He heard the pad of the man’s bare feet as he crossed the wooden floor and the sound of the wardrobe opening and a drawer being pulled open and closed. The man walked back across the floor and Charlie took another deep breath and held it.

“Doxie, I ease up. Bogart, we stop.”

Charlie didn’t bother to nod, just turned his face to the wall and braced himself. There was a soft swoosh and the flogger struck him low on his back, it wasn’t nearly enough and Charlie held back a groan of disappointment. Too gentle. The dom was obviously cautious--or experienced--enough to not start too harshly before knowing Charlie’s limits.

He struck again. A little higher, a little harder and Charlie pulled as little he could against the tight bindings, wanting to get closer to the strikes. Then the blows came on top of one another and he gave a sigh of relief as he felt his skin start to tingle and burn.

There was a thud on the ground and then Charlie felt cool hands running along his back. “Yes, I think that will do quite nicely.” Charlie shivered in anticipation, his eyes still closed underneath the blindfold as he heard the sound of the man walking a few steps away.

“Twenty lashes. Count.”

It was the only warning before the crack of the whip split the air. There was hardly time to brace himself before the burning sting hit him between his shoulderblades. “One,” he gasped out, as the sting faded replaced by a lingering burn, he took in a deep breath as the next crack sounded. Placed perfectly to cross the first mark the whip barely touched him before it was recoiling back. “Two.” Charlie flexed his shoulders as he heard the man walking towards him.

“Beautiful.” The man stroked the marks with his thumb. Charlie flinched away from the touch, it felt comforting and he didn’t want comfort, he needed to be pushed. The man gave a deep rumbling chuckle, “Right. Let’s get into it.”

The third flick came without warning across the back of both his thighs, Charlie gritted his teeth and ground out, “Three.” The strikes continued one after another, and he felt himself falling into the darkness, his mind focusing not on the pain that lit his back, legs, arms on fire, but at the grunt the man made as he unleashed the whip, the crack, the movement of air before the leather cut across his skin, the whisper of the leather as it slid back across the floor. True to his request, there was no steady pattern, strikes came from the left, right, straight on.

Sixteen…seventeen…

The last five were always the toughest, the pain was no longer individual lashes but as if his back were on fire. It took all he had to focus to remember to breathe, to count...

Eighteen…nineteen…twenty...

Charlie’s head fell back in relief and the man was there, supporting his head. “You did it. You were magnificent…” Charlie rested, his body letting go, sagging as much as the bindings allowed. He was glad that the man wasn’t trying to undo them as he fought to find his center again.

“Here.” A straw was put against his lower lip and Charlie realized how parched he was, he sipped eagerly, coughing when the ice water went down wrong. “Slowly.”

The man carefully avoided touching Charlie’s back. He heard a clink of ice against the glass and a gasping scream escaped him as the ice was put between his shoulder blades. “Shhhhh… let it work.” Charlie felt the burn as ease as the man slid the ice across his shoulders. “You didn’t make a single noise before, and you scream when I try to ease the burn,” the man chided him.

“We aren’t done. I’m not--”

“No. Just taking a break. I’m going to reposition you.” He waited until Charlie nodded his agreement and then the man kneeled down and started to unbuckle the buckles on his legs, moving quicker than he had buckled them. The relief of the cuffs coming off felt almost too good, he had the urge to move his legs but he stayed in position and waited.

“Good. You were trained well,” the man stood up, sliding his hands along the back of Charlie’s legs as he did. “You may move your legs.”

Charlie pulled them together, the stretch of having them so far apart made the muscles painful to move. He clenched his thigh muscles to try and stop the shaking. “Let them relax, they will be bound again soon enough.” The man ordered as he started to undo the arm cuffs.

“Turn around,” he said as soon as the last buckle was undone. Charlie stiffly turned, feeling vulnerable as he exposed his frontside to him. He was grateful for the blindfold, not wanting to watch the man studying his body, the tattoo, or the burn marks on his arms, his cock jutting out from his body.

There was a murmur of incantations and Charlie heard the cuffs sliding into new positions on the wall. He leaned back against the wall, the rough stone stung his bruised skin, waiting impatiently for the man to get things ready for the next go.

“Bend your arms.” The man buckled his arms to the wall so that his elbows were bent to a 90 degree angle, hands facing up. He fastened Charlie’s legs closer together, in a more natural stance. His cock that had sagged during the break was hard again and the man gripped it with his hand, feeling Charlie’s balls, that were drawn up, tight and aching. “Cock ring?”

Charlie hesitated, but shook his head. He was close, but the first lash would take the edge off. The man let go of him without any further comment and Charlie willed him to start again. There was a gentle brush of material against his cock, a flogger again, he realized but a different one, and for an instant he regretted turning down the offer of the cock ring as the metal beads at the end of each strand of the soft suede leather brushed against his sac.

Closing his eyes he braced his head against the wall as the touch of the flogger disappeared. There was a whoosh and a strike against his upper thigh. More stimulating than painful, the man was was teasing him with it, or trying to get him to come, or to simply testing the effect.

“Count.” The man prompted him.

“One.”

The next ones were stronger, never in the same place, and after ten the man stopped, Charlie could hear his strained breathing. Charlie let his head sag down, his chin touching his chest. Immediately, there were fingers on his chin, lifting it. “No.”

There was a flick and the flogger struck him between the legs, licking his balls and perineum, the feel of the softness of the silk and the bite of the metal beads making him cry out, the sound reverberating in the room. “E-lev-en,” he gasped through the pain.

“Good boy, Red.” The man as he struck again, a lash against his sternum, and then the balls again. Charlie could no longer hold back, as the strikes came one after another, and blissfully he fell into the place he had to be, where there was no noise but the whoosh of the flogger, all there was was the spinning freedom as he let go of the pain and finally felt alive.

Then it stopped, slowly he came to be aware again. The rasps of his own breath as he came down. The thud as the flogger dropped to the ground, an incantation was spoken, and he was free, the cuffs falling away. He flailed his arms out to catch himself as he fell forward, but the man caught him, supporting the full weight of Charlie’s body without even a grunt as he lowered him to the floor.

“You did good.” The man’s hands were stroking the top of his head, fingers running through his hair, pushing Charlie’s head forward to rest against his bare abdomen. The man’s skin was slick with sweat and Charlie was struck by the urge to lick, taste the salt on this stranger’s skin. His own body was trembling, shaking and he couldn’t control it.

“You’ve earned your reward,” the fingers that had been gently stroking, gripped his hair tightly and pulled back Charlie’s head so he was looking blindly up at the man, “Are you ready?”

Unable to move his head, Charlie licked his lips instead, opening his mouth. There was a low chuckle, “Good boy, Red.” He must have scowled at the nickname because the man murmured, “Not a fan of the name? Maybe you’ll like this better.”

His head was free as he heard the slide of leather being through a buckle and his cock gave a jump and he almost came just from the sound. A rasp of a zipper coming down and Charlie felt the nudge of the cock against his lips. He opened his mouth wide and the man pushed his cock in, Charlie slid his tongue along the underside of it as he curled his lips around his teeth, giving a moan as he tasted of precome on his tongue.

Charlie lapped at the cockhead before taking the cock into his mouth and back out again, stroking it with his tongue as he did. The rough fabric of the man’s trousers hit his cheeks as he took him into his mouth. There was a grunt and then the man was gripping the back of his head and Charlie’s mouth was being fucked, he gagged, his eyes watering and the man slowed for just three beats, letting Charlie adjust, before starting again, and then he was coming, and Charlie swallowed down the bitterness, his mouth gently working all of the come from the man as his movements slowed.

The cock slipped out of his mouth and Charlie sank back down on his knees, his own still aching with need. The man kneeled down next to him and Charlie started as he felt two licks on his chin, then realized the man had just cleaned his own come off of Charlie’s face.

A hand gripped his cock, not stroking, just holding, squeezing. “Come.” Charlie thrust into the hand, it only took a few strokes and he came. Stars burst behind the blindfold as he pulsed into the man’s hand, unable to hold back a cry as he spent himself.

“Lick.”

Charlie licked his own come off the man’s hand, the taste was mixed with the tangy scent of the leather. As his tongue licked between his fingers, he heard a sharp intake of breath come from the man, and he tucked that little bit of knowledge away and finished the job. As he sat back on his heels, Charlie wanted the blindfold off, it had been fine why they were at play but now he wanted his sight back.

He was trembling, the pain from the lashes had set in, and his muscles were spasming. There was a touch of a hand on his elbow, pulling up. “The bath is ready.”

He was guided into the en suite bathroom, and the smell of the bath scent was powerful almost too strong floral scent. “Calendula, it helps heal, you get used to the smell,” the man said. Charlie wondered how he was supposed to take a bath while wearing a blindfold, but the man was already untying the blindfold. Charlie blinked as his eyes were suddenly uncovered. There was the flicker of candlelight on the walls but the room was nearly dark. The bathtub was in front of him. A sunken tub that looked large enough for four men. “Need help getting in?”

Charlie didn’t bother to answer just took stepped forward and down the steps into the tub, the water was warm and felt slightly oily, more healing agents, he supposed. A hiss escaped his lips as the water hit the first of lash marks.

“Sit down.” Charlie obeyed, gritting his jaw against the burn and sting of the water. He was only half submerged in the water when the man sat down on the edge of the tub behind him. Charlie started to turn his head as he felt the sponge on his back. “Don’t,” the man said. He started to sponge Charlie’s back, gently squeezing the sponge to send trickles of water down his back. Charlie closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine it was Remus, and not some anonymous stranger.

The man’s arms reached around Charlie and did the same to the marks on his front. Then they were out of the bath and Charlie sat on a stool as ointment was spread on the lash marks, the ointment contained more of the calendula and he wrinkled his nose when the jar got too close to his face. By the time all the marks had been coated he was nearly asleep, and the man nudged him to get him to stand up, he was enveloped in a toweling robe and led to the bedroom. “Rest.” The man said and Charlie didn’t argue, climbing into the bed his eyes were already shut. The weeks of tension and sleepless nights coupled with the exhaustion of the apparations to Paris and the session had him ready to collapse.

~|~|~|~

The room was in dark when he woke, the only light coming from a flickering wall sconce. Where he was came back with a rush, the man wasn’t in the bedroom. The other pillows on the bed showed no sign that someone had slept next to him,which filled him with relief. He was willing to suck off someone, let him whip him, but sleeping in a bed was not something he did with one-night encounters.

He stood up, wincing as his muscles protested. More carefully, he stretched, forcing his body to move, knowing it was the quickest way to recover from the session. He looked down at his chest, There were faint red marks but nothing significant, he knew his back was likely covered with lash marks, the whip not being as gentle as the flogger, but he welcomed the pain, it would have to last him until the next time he could get away to the club.

His clothes were folded at the end of the bed, he dressed and opened the door to the main room. The other room was completely dark, except for the faint light coming from the open curtains that had the light from the arena. He could see the man who was standing at the window. He turned to face Charlie, his body a silhouette against the light from the window. He had broad shoulders that tapered down to a fit waist. That he was strong was clear in how he’d wielded the whip and flogger.

“I thought you would sleep longer.”

“What time is it?”

“Just past four.”

“Oh, well.” Charlie fumbled for something to say, “Thanks. I’ll be going now.” He turned to leave and hadn’t gone three steps when the man spoke again.

“Stay,” The man commanded and Charlie cursed the obedience of his body as it stopped mid-step. “I have a proposition.”

Charlie turned to look at him again.

“I would like to come up with an arrangement with you.”

“What kind?”

The man laughed, “Exclusive rights to flog you, and, if you agree, to fuck you, but that isn’t a requirement.”

“I don’t live in Paris. I don’t even live in France.”

“Neither do I. Portkeys can be arranged.” The man said it dismissively, whoever he was, the bureaucratic and costly complication of international portkeys was an insignificant one.

“Why?”

“Why portkeys? Because appara--”

“No, why me?”

“Because I know what you need...I can give it to you.”

Charlie shook his head, not believing him, “How could you possibly? Tonight was good, you know your way around the whip, better than some of the _bădăran_ down there. But you don’t know me.”

“I’ve been where you are. The need to be broken down, the frustration of being with those who didn’t understand. The crippling need for the pain to make everything alright.”

Charlie snorted and started to leave.

“I also know the challenge you present to the doms on the floor. They judge you by the size of your muscles, your obvious strength, and make the assumption that you must be broken by force. Or that you deserved to be punished for what they don’t have.” The man’s words were like the velvet curtains and Charlie bit his lip, tasting the blood. “They see you and they don’t know that the lick of the whip in the right place is more effective than a blunt hit with a paddle. They seek to break you.”

“And you won’t?” He didn’t try to keep the cynicism out of his voice.

“I didn’t tonight, and I think we can do better, as I get to know your body, learn how to push you. I want to use the ropes on you, bind you tight, see the black ropes knotted against your skin, and see you acquiesce, give yourself, surrender.” The man spoke as if he’d already fantasized about it.

Charlie closed his eyes against the image, to keep from wanting it too much. It was impossible.

“How long?”

“I prefer no less than six months, minimum of two sessions a month, more, if possible.”

“I can’t, not that often. The apparations--”

“As I said, portkeys. I don’t want you exhausted by apparating across the continent.”

Charlie took in his words, he knew how far Charlie traveled. Who was he?

“How can I trust you, if you don’t let me see your face?”

“You don’t want to know, Red.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I like it, it is what I first saw four months ago when I looked out the window and saw you down on the floor, your red hair. I wanted you. Wondered what it would be like to grip you by that red hair of yours and fuck your mouth.”

“Now you know.” Charlie said dismissively.

“Now I want more.”

“What do I call you? Shadow?” Charlie waved at the man’s silhouette.

There was another chuckle that sounded oddly familiar to Charlie, “If you let me call you Red, you can call me Black, in addition to sir.”

“How would it even work. How--”

“Do you agree?”

“This arrangement would be for six months?” He could easily get the time away from the reserve, especially since they were heading into winter when most of the dragons hibernated.

“Yes. And you would be mine. Exclusively.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exclusive. No one else. And, if I so decide, no wanking or fondling yourself, without my permission between visits.”

Charlie gave a half-laugh at the thought of abstaining except at this stranger’s command. Remus had challenged him similarly, but they were lovers, not two people who had only met a few hours earlier. What this man was offering, not having to walk onto the floor of the club with the feeling of dread because the didn’t know what kind of dom he would get, was something he’d wanted, needed, for a long time.

“I’ll do it.”

The man straightened, as if he’d not expect Charlie to accept. “We’ll need the manager here to witness the contract, but before I summon him you should know that one of my terms will be that you will not attempt to see my face. If you do, either deliberately or by accident, the agreement will be void.”

Charlie shifted his feet uncomfortably, that Black was so adamant about concealing himself was the one reason he should just walk out the door and never look back. He was English, it could be as simple an explanation that the man had a position high up in the Ministry, and could be vulnerable if his secret got out. Maybe even the Minister of Magic. Charlie considered what he remembered of Kingsley’s body shape, and almost laughed, it obviously wasn’t him. Conversely, he could be one of the dozens of Death Eaters who had fled to the continent after Voldemort fell. The thought of being fucked by a Death Eater made him sick.

“Shall I summon the manager, or did you change your mind?”

“Let me see your left arm.” Charlie said flatly.

“Smart, Red.” There was an approving sound in Black’s voice and he walked towards Charlie, rolling up his sleeve. He was wearing the mask, Charlie realized as the lighting in the room suddenly brightened. The man held out his left forearm, it was free of any marks. It could be concealed by a charm though, he started to reach for his wand but hesitated.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.”

“ _Finite Incantatem_.” Charlie pointed his wand at Black’s exposed arm and nothing changed, no tell-tale shimmer of magic. He gave a sigh of relief. “Okay. What other conditions? How will you let me know when we are going to meet?”

“On the table you’ll find a lacquered box, you will take it with you. I have the only match. It will allow me to send you instructions, and the portkeys when they are needed. When there is a message from me the box changes color from black to red. If at anytime you change your mind, you can let me know by placing a letter in the box and turning the dial.”

“What if I can’t meet when you--”

“I’ll send the dates that I’m available, you respond back with the date that works for your schedule. They will be long sessions, I’ll expect you to stay in the suite to be available to me. On the date and time specified, you will be on time. You already explored the wardrobe.” The man stated it as a fact and Charlie nodded, he hadn’t been told he couldn’t and refused to feel any guilt for going through the man’s things.

“You may pick out up to three items that you want used in that evening’s session and put them on the table. If I expect you to dress or prepare yourself in a certain manner, you will find the things on the bed, along with your blindfold. You will have a half hour to prepare yourself and then I will arrive. If something arises and you must cancel you will send notice via the box. If you cancel twice, then the arrangement is broken.”

“What if you miss twice?”

“I won’t,” Black said firmly. Charlie wished he could see his face, see if the man looked boastful or just straightforward. In the end thought, it didn’t matter. He wanted this.

“Send for the manager.”

The wizarding agreement was done with minimal fuss, although Charlie had never gone through the process as the club, he’d seen others doing it. They both stated their limits and preferences in front of the manager. Charlie noticed that the flustered manager kept glancing at the man as if he was intimidated--or scared--of him. Who was this stranger?

The manager held his wand over their joined hands. They repeated the terms and the manager cast the spell. Charlie looked down at his wrist. The two thin circular bond marks were red and black, just like Black had requested. The marks would be there as long as the agreement was in place.

After the manager left, Black turned to Charlie. “I have to leave, I’m afraid, I hadn’t planned on this diversion tonight, welcome though it has been. You are welcome to stay, sleep in the bed, if you wish, rather than go back to your hotel. Don’t forget the box when you leave.” Black held out his hand to Charlie, “I’m looking forward to our next session.”

Charlie shook his hand, hoping he wouldn’t regret promising Black the next six months of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie put the box on his fireplace mantle. It wasn’t particularly large, about the size of a biscuit tin, but its polished black finish and gold finials didn’t fit his rustic cottage. He’d heard about such boxes, smaller versions of the disappearing cupboard that had been responsible for the Death Eaters getting into Hogwarts. They could only be used to send messages, the Order had started to use them towards the end of the war when the Ministry had fallen and owls were being intercepted and the floo network monitored. The possibility that Black was a former Order member was interesting--but if they had worked together, knew each other, why would he conceal himself.

For three days, the color remained the same.

On the fourth morning he woke up and, shivering at the chill that was in the air he’d padded across the floor to stoke up the fire. The box had turned a deep crimson red. Charlie started to reach for it but forced himself instead to add the wood to the banked coals in the fireplace, and then make his morning cup. Only when he’d had his first couple sips of strong coffee did he allow himself to go back to the fireplace. Setting his mug on the mantle he took the box down.

Flipping open the lid there was a scroll of parchment. He untied the black ribbon securing it. Three dates were listed, Charlie knew he couldn’t do the first one but the other two could work.

Checking his calendar he saw that the second date actually fell the day before the weekend he had to be in England for his parent’s anniversary party. He could go directly to England from France, making it an easier trip and he would have the benefit of getting the relief from a session at the club before a weekend overflowing with family.

Circling the date on the scroll he placed it in the box and turned the ornate dial on the lid. He felt a surge of magic and the box turned back to black. Opening the lid, the scroll was gone. Impressed with the craftsmanship of the box, he put it back on the mantle and prepared for a day on the reserve.

~|~|~|~

_His breath was labored as he broke a path through the drifts of fresh snow that had fallen while he was in the village, playing chess in the pub. The path was lit by the bluish moonlight, the moon having just crested the horizon of the valley. Charlie stopped and peered at it through the silhouette of the trees, waxing, just two days until the full moon. He looked ahead at the unbroken snow, and swallowed his disappointment, no one else had traveled this way tonight._

_It was during the winter months when being alone was the most difficult. Long nights spent reading by the fireplace, solitary meals eaten out of obligation rather than desire, and trips to the village, reluctantly seeking out the companionship of others when he could no longer bear the isolation, then sitting in the smoke-filled tavernă, listening to the same stories he’d heard a hundred times before - of escaped dragons, poachers and dubious sightings of winged nogtails. He’d sit amidst the others, watch the chess game, sipping his whiskey and dare to hope that when he returned home that the armchair next to his wouldn’t be empty._

_The path opened up to the clearing, the stone cottage that he’d called home for the past four years. The wood pile stacked to the eaves on the lee side, the small pen where he sometimes cared for injured animals. He forced himself to shake off the melancholy and appreciate the beauty of his little part of the valley, the fresh snow clung to the branches of the trees and covered the cottage with a cocoon of white that meant it would be snug and cozy inside, despite the temperatures that were below zero._

_Kicking the snow away from the door, he pulled it open, no need for locks this deep into the woods. Stepping inside, he quickly shut it to keep the snow and cold out and sat on the bench by the door, unlacing his boots and hanging up his parka. He’d banked the fire before leaving and now he crossed over to the fireplace to stoke it to life again._

_It was only as he reached for one of the logs stacked next to the fireplace that he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. The shadow stood in the doorway to the bedroom, Charlie forced his arms to move, using the log to jab at the coals, sending a shower of sparks upwards as he set the log on the burning orange coals followed by two more. It would only take a few moments for the fire to catch and start to heat the room._

_He sat back on his heels and waited, closing his eyes as he heard the pad of bare feet across the wooden floor. Remus knelt behind him and Charlie leaned back into him as Remus’ arms embraced him. Remus buried his face in Charlie’s hair, taking a deep inhale, and then he nuzzled Charlie’s neck and jaw. “You smell of tobacco, whiskey, and...men.”_

_“Chess, down in the village.” Charlie reached back with his arm, feeling the silkiness of Remus’s hair. “Wouldn’t have gone, if I’d known…”_

_“I only have a few hours, but couldn’t stay away, not two moons in a row.” Charlie nodded, he knew the need that drove Remus before the full moon._

_Turning in his arms, Charlie studied his gaunt face, the werewolf was hovering near the surface, his pupils were black, the tension he was feeling showed in the lines around his eyes, his mouth. Standing up, he pulled Remus to him. Their mouths met and Charlie groaned with need. He walked backwards towards the bedroom, pulling Remus with him as he went, not breaking the kiss until the mattress hit the back of his legs._

 

~|~|~|~

Charlie bolted up in bed, heart racing, he looked around, the pillow next to him was untouched, he was alone. Numbly, he lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. A dream. He hadn’t a dream like that in years, one that felt so real he had to touch his lips to see if they were bruised.

Throwing back the covers he stood up, there was no point in trying to sleep. Barefoot, he went into the other room and went through the routine of making a pot of tea that he didn’t want. It was cold but he didn’t bother to stir up the fire, needing to feel the chill on his skin, to prove he was awake. He paced over to the window and looked at the moonlit clearing, the trees were stripped of their leaves and there was hint of snow in the air, winter came early and stayed late in the foothills of the mountains.

The dream, Charlie remembered that night perfectly. Remus had pushed Charlie onto the bed and slipped the leather restraints over his wrists, binding him to the bed. Charlie closed his eyes as he remembered the look on Remus’s face as he reached for the lit candle on the nightstand table. Charlie had tugged at the bindings, testing their tightness. Their eyes had met as Remus slowly tipped the candle and they watched together as the first droplet of hot wax began to fall, he’d hissed and arched his back as it splashed on his groin.

Closing his eyes Charlie pressed his hand against the tattoo on his chest as he remembered how they had balanced each other: Charlie desperate for the restraint to let go and Remus needing to retain control in order not to lose it. It was that need that had brought them together the summer after he’d graduated from Hogwarts.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why he’d had the dream tonight, the thought that he was betraying Remus had been running through his head for days. Charlie knew that Remus wouldn’t think of it as such. It had been ten years, he would have wanted Charlie to move on.

 

~|~|~|~

By the time he left for Paris, Charlie knew he was in no shape for a session, but he’d made a commitment and he’d be damned if he would renege on it. The Portkey worked without a hitch, delivering him to a room set for that purpose in the club and he’d gone directly to the suite.

Unable to face the cabinet, he instead went to the bedroom. The blindfold was on the bed, as was a harness of high quality black leather. He picked it up, the straps were made to fit over his thighs, and leather straps to cross his chest, two more for his arms. Setting it down with a sigh Charlie looked towards the bathroom. Maybe that is what he needed. A quick soak to ease the tension, but there would scarcely be time for the tub to fill however, before he was supposed to be ready and waiting.

Pushing the harness away, Charlie lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

The room was pitch-black when he awoke, with a jerk of horror he started to sit up but a hand pressed down on his chest. He turned to confront his attacker when the realization of where he was came back to him with a rush.

“ _Futu-i_! Sorry, I…” Charlie stammered to the man who was just a shadow in the dark.

“It’s okay. You were asleep when I got here. Didn’t see a reason to wake you since you obviously needed the sleep.” He didn’t sound angry but Charlie knew he’d committed a major transgression.

“Still, I should’ve--”

“Rough work week?” Black cut him off before he could stammer out an apology.

“No...yes. Didn’t get much sleep.” Charlie could hardly tell him that he had had insomnia because of dreams about his dead lover.

“Then I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to sleep here. Exhaustion is no way to begin a session.”

“Still, you didn’t--”

“Go take a shower. Get yourself together. We have all night, and a bit of the morning, unless you have somewhere to be.”

“No. I don’t have to be anywhere until noon tomorrow.”

“Shower. And if you are up for it.” The man’s hand slid over Charlie’s groin pressing down on his cock. “We can see if we can relieve your stress so you can sleep better tomorrow.”

Charlie felt himself harden just from the feel of Black’s hand and suggestive tone in his voice. Picking up the harness he headed to the bathroom. “Oh, and, Red? We will discuss your punishment when you come out.”

The punishment was ten strikes with a wooden ruler, Charlie bent over the top of the leather covered table in the main room. The straps of the harness digging into his chest as he gripped the legs of the table as he’d been instructed, his legs bent over the edge of it and his arse stinging.

“Good boy, Red,” Black murmured as he gave the last strike. A cool hand slid across Charlie’s heated flesh and he knew that his skin would be bright red from the ruler. A finger trailed along his crack and he couldn’t hold back the shiver.

“Not yet, I have plans for you.” Black’s tone was brisk and Charlie gave a start as he slapped him hard on his left buttocks. “Stand up, we’ll begin. Since you neglected to select anything from the cupboard, it is my choice. A crop will be very appropriate, I think.”

With the leather mask covering his eyes, Charlie focused on the metallic clank of chains being attached to the metal rings on the back of his harness. The chains weren’t just for show, the heavy links were pulling on the straps of the harness, cutting into his shoulders and along his his waist. He curled his bare feet against the metal sheet that had been laid down on the floor.

Black’s hands slid along his biceps and down his side to his legs, his fingers tracing along his abductor muscles. Charlie felt the handle of a crop trail down his spine. “The chains are attached a rock. You will pull it across the room, in order to earn your reward.”

Charlie gave a shiver of pleasure, making the chain links scrape together. “Yes, I can see that you like this.” Black’s hand reached down and squeezed Charlie’s right thigh. “Show me how strong you are, that those muscles aren’t just for show.”

Charlie snorted, his muscles were from real work: wrestling to tame the power of the dragons, hauling trees for firewood, building fences and the myriad of other chores required on the reserve.

“You have thirty minutes.” A lance of pain went through Charlie as the crop struck him across his shoulders. He surged forward until he felt the slack in the chains disappear and then, was yanked back with a jerk. There was no give. A rock? A boulder was more likely, Charlie thought as he planted his feet and closed his eyes behind the mask so he could focus on nothing but the first sign that the rock was moving. Bracing his legs, he leaned forward and tried to heave. Nothing.

There was another whoosh of air and he felt the sting on his buttocks. Straining, the harness cut painfully into his flesh as he heaved forward again, with a loud grunt. He felt the tremendous weight at the other end of the chains finally move. Gritting his teeth, he heaved again and was able to take a half step forward.

Beads of sweat rolled down his face and chest as he grunted and fought for every inch of gain, his bare feet slipped and he fell to his knees, the chains striking him painfully on the back of his calves and jerked him backwards.

“That won’t do at all.” Charlie heard the man say and the crop struck him between his shoulderblades. “You’ve only gone two feet, there are twenty to go. Tick tock.”

Silently cursing the man, Charlie pushed himself off the ground, and started again, heaving forward, his muscles screamed and protested each step forward. Shouting his frustration at the slowness of his progress, he heaved harder and inch by inch, foot by foot he kept moving until he felt nothing but the cut of the straps and the burn of his chest as he fought for every breath.

Blind, he didn’t know how far he had to go, the man said nothing, only giving him an encouraging strike when Charlie let the chains sag. His head pressed against a solid surface and he reached his arm forward and felt the wall. Sagging and gasping for breath he leaned against the wall and waited for the fire in his legs and shoulders to ease.

He felt cool hands on his back and the first of the chains dropped away with a dull clank. One by one, Black detached each of the chains. Freed at last from the weight, Charlie straightened up only to be pushed back down so that his head was against the wall, hands pulled his hips back and Charlie lifted his hands to brace himself against the wall as he felt Black’s cock against his crack.

“You are a beast. You should see yourself like this, so ripped.”

Black ran his tongue along where the straps had cut into Charlie’s shoulder, “I could suck the sweat off you all night.” There was another swirl of tongue and Charlie closed his eyes as the man licked and lapped at him, his cock rocking against Charlie’s crack, hard and teasing hot. He felt his own cock thicken and rise as he recovered his breath. Hands came around and slid under the straps of the harness, pinching his nipples, and Charlie gasped at the teasing shocks of pain.

“You’ve earned your reward, do you want it in your mouth or shall I fuck you against this wall?” Black pressed against him and Charlie pushed back into him, rubbing himself against his cock. “Do you want me to take you, right here, like this? Speak.”

“Fuck, yes. Please, sir.” Charlie hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted it. He heard a lid being unscrewed and he braced against the wall as a hand pushed down on his back and his legs were kicked apart, two slick fingers pressed into him. Charlie didn’t want Black to waste time preparing him, he wanted to be taken while he was still feeling the buzz of the exertion, while he could feel sting of the sweat on the lash marks. “Please, now, sir.”

“You want me to fuck you tight?”

“Merlin, yes.” He knew his body would adjust quickly enough and he loved the burn of the pain against the aching need of being filled. He bit his lips and forced himself to relax as Black pulled his fingers out with a twist that brushed his prostate. The tingle of the touch was forgotten as he felt the cockhead pushing against him.

“I’ll take you like this, but I’m going to do it slow, the way I like it,” Black spoke into his ear, his chest pressed to Charlie’s back. “You will not come until I tell you, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The push was as slow as promised and it was only Black’s hands gripping his hips tightly that kept him from thrusting back onto the man’s cock as it pushed and stretched its way past the ring of muscles. His own erection flagged and he sucked in his breath as the pain built. Black stopped and Charlie moaned his protest, “Keep going, damn you.”

His impertinence was punished immediately by Black pulling out. Charlie bit his lips to keep from cursing again. A hand reached through his legs and he felt his balls being gripped tightly. “You have a complaint, Red?”

“No sir, sorry sir.” Charlie gasped as his balls were massaged, Black’s other hand had wrapped around his waist and was now tightly gripping the base of his cock. Charlie had to force himself to not try and thrust.

“Behave or I won’t let you come,” was his only warning as Black gave a final painful squeeze to his balls before straightening up using his hands to spread Charlie’s cheeks apart, that Charlie was already a little stretched didn’t make Black go any faster.

Charlie closed his eyes and clenched his fists against the wall as the man worked inch by inch into him. Only when his balls were brushing against Charlie did Black speak again.

“You want me to move? Beg me for it.”

“Yes, please,” Charlie exhaled the word with relief. “I want you to fuck me, please, sir.”

“You are so bloody tight, like a virgin arse.” Black hissed into his ear, his voice strained as if he was having to hold back.

“Been a while, just fuck me...please, sir.” Charlie chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from coming and willed the man to start moving.

Hands gripped his hips tightly as Black started thrusting deep and hard. Charlie cried out as the tightness and pain gave way to pleasure and he was able to forget everything but the cock inside him. Black didn’t make a sound, but his fingers gripped Charlie tighter and Charlie could hear his labored breathing. His own cock was as hard as it ever had been and he desperately fought the urge to come but every thrust inside him made it more and more a certainty.

“You like it like this, you want to come just on my cock alone, don’t you?”

Nodding, Charlie bit his lip to keep from pleading.

“I should see how long you can last.” Black slowed down, his cock deep inside of Charlie, making small movements. “See what it takes to make you beg to come.”

Charlie fought the urge to push back, to not come. He focused on the feel of the sweat trickling down his back, anything to keep from coming as Black continued with his slow tempo.

“Beg me,” Black whispered in his ear. “I bet your balls are so tight, ready to come. Beg to come with my cock inside of you.”

“Yes, sir. Please sir. I want to come,” Charlie gasped out the words, his hands clenched in fists.

“I should make you wait. Not let you come until I’m through fucking you.” His hand snuck around and gripped the base of Charlie’s cock. “Should I? Should I make you wait?”

Charlie felt the precome dripping off his cockhead, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer. “Please. Please let me come,” Charlie begged.

Black gave a chuckle, “Come.”

Black began to pound into him and Charlie came with a shout, throwing his head back in agony and relief. Trembling with the effort to stay upright he fell against his elbows. Only then did Black come, giving a grunt, and slowing his thrusts until he was just rolling his hips against Charlie. He pressed against Charlie and Charlie’s arms began to quake and he sagged against the wall.

“So fucking hot…I knew you would be.” Black kissed Charlie between the shoulders as he ran his hand along Charlie’s arm. “The bath is ready, you are going to need a long hot soak.”

“Let me take off the mask, please.” The sweat had cooled and he was aware of his scalp and skin was itching unbearably now that the scene had ended.

“I’ll take it off, but don’t turn around.” He murmured a Lumos charm to dim the lights and standing behind Charlie, he took off the mask. The room was lit by only one candle on the far side of the room. He looked down and saw the red granite boulder on the floor. It was massive, thick iron rings had been drilled into it, the chains bolted through the rings.

“That must be at least 30 stone!”

“Hmmm, more, I imagine. Thank Merlin for lightning charms,” Black said. “Go into the bathroom, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dimly lit by candles, the bathroom was steamy hot and Charlie was glad for it, his muscles were beginning to tighten and each step had been met with an angry protest of pain from his quivering quad muscles. Black entered the room wearing his mask and began to unfasten the harness. Charlie closed his eyes, swaying slightly in his exhaustion. He gave a sigh of relief as he felt the harness fall away, dropping to the floor with a dull thud.

It was only then that he sniffed and realized that the powerful floral smell from the last bath in this room had changed. He smelled a deep woodsy sage smell that reminded him of the time spent in the Hogwarts Potions classroom.

“Noticed that did you?” Black whispered in his ear, “You didn’t seem to like the calendula, this has eucalyptus and arnica, not as a powerful a healing agent but easier on the nose. I had my potioneer compound it just for you along with a new ointment, if you don’t like them we can try something else.”

“Better.” Charlie blinked, as the heat and exhaustion set in. He didn’t protest as Black helped him step into the bath and sat behind him. Charlie sank against him and closed his eyes as Black took a sponge and started pressing it against the stinging wounds left by the harness straps and the crop marks. His head lolled back on Black’s shoulder and he felt what little strength he had draining away.

 

~|~|~|~

He woke in the dark and felt the weight of someone sleeping next to him in the bed. Charlie stretched tentatively but the strained muscles from his exertion only gave a mild protest thanks to the ointment that Black had used to massage him after the bath. It was dark enough he knew he could turn to look at the man who had whipped, fucked, and bathed him.

All he could he see was the outline of his shape in the dark, his chest rising up and down in the regular rhythm of sleep. Charlie took a shaky breath as he realized that he could find out who he was by simply lighting a candle, but then the agreement would be void and there wouldn’t be another session like the one they just had.

Closing his eyes against the temptation, Charlie willed himself to go back to sleep, but his thoughts kept slipping back to Remus. He would have appreciated the Black’s creativity with the boulder, he’d always growled with desire when Charlie had come back from an afternoon working with the dragons, his muscles primed.

Charlie carefully slid from the bed. He found his clothes folded at the end of the bed and fumbled until he found the packet of cigarettes and then made his way to the other room.

Lighting one, he took a deep drag as he wandered over to the curtains that covered the window. Pulling them back, he stared down into the pits. Even at the wee hours of the morning there were men actively moving around. A trio was on the stage, a man on his hands and knees, being fucked mouth and arse. Charlie stroked himself slowly as he watched the blow job came first, then the top.

“Fascinating, isn’t it? Some nights I just watch for hours.” Charlie gave a start at the voice behind him but forced himself to relax, even as Black came up behind him. “I’m wearing the mask, you can look at me.”

Charlie turned towards him, Black was naked. His body was lean, black curly chest hair that tapered off to tight abdomen muscles, his limp cock hung down between his legs. Charlie looked back at Black’s face and saw the amused expression in his eyes. “Only fair, I suppose. I’ve certainly had plenty of time to eye you.”

He took the cigarette from Charlie’s hand and took a drag from it. “Want your own?”

“No, I don’t smoke.” Black said and he held it out to Charlie.

“Neither do I, not in real life,” Charlie turned towards the window, looking down at the scenes unfolding below.

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Black stubbed the cigarette out against the windowsill. “None of this exists outside of these walls. It’s a fantasy. Smoke and mirrors.”

“And whips and fucks.”

“Merlin, yes.” Black’s voice was low and gravely, and Charlie realized he could become addicted to the need to hear the sexy tones that made him feel like he was the only man that Black wanted to fuck.

They stood in silence watching the scenes unfolding below, passing the cigarette between them. Charlie didn’t regret not being on the floor, remembering the tight ball of tension in his stomach he’d always had as he walked out, offering himself to whoever was interested. What he’d done with Black tonight had brought him more satisfaction than anything that had happened down on the floor in his previous visits. He saw a man on the floor look up and stare straight up at them.

“Can they see us?”

“Yes.” Black snubbed the cigarette out on the window frame and dropped it. “Do you like that? Would you want to be on that stage? Have everyone watching you?”

Charlie looked down at the three men. “I never liked being on the stage.”

“What’s your fantasy, then? A trio, like that?”

He shook his head, and closed his eyes as Black moved behind him and started to kiss and suck his neck and shoulder. “What do you want?” Black asked again.

“To be collared.” Charlie felt his cheeks heat as he admitted it. “Not long-term, just a day, maybe two.”

“Slave?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, to have to submit completely to someone else, be used.”

“You’ve never done it?”

“There’s no one I know who I can trust like that. It’s just a fantasy,” Charlie said, annoyed with himself for having admitted it to Black.

“I have a fantasy, too,” Black said as his hands slid along Charlie’s abdomen. “I want to be sucked off by a naked red-head, gripping him by his hair as I come all over his face, and then lick him clean.”

“I think you have a licking kink.”

“I do, as much as I love the whip and the flogger, I love the taste of skin, sweat, come, always different and always sexy as fuck. Exploring a body with my tongue, finding the spots that make someone shiver with need. Which is why, after I come all over your face and lick it off, I’m going to turn you around and rim you with you spread eagle against that window. Feel you squirm as I fuck you with my tongue until you come.” 

 

~|~|~|~

He apparated into the front garden of the Burrow and stood a minute to let the disorientation of the jump smooth over him. The house looked the same, better even, the crazy mismatch of additions that looked like it should’ve toppled over years ago was still standing, and Charlie didn’t know how his father managed that feat of magic.

The tent was up for the party; the tables festively set with autumn colors clothes and centerpieces of leaves and candles. Charlie gave a shiver at the chill in the air and knew he and Bill would be spending a good portion of the evening casting heating charms.

Taking a deep breath he walked towards it, bracing himself for the explosion of sound that would happen once he pushed open the door. To his surprise he walked in and instead of his eight nieces and nephews screaming and chasing each other around the room he found his parents, brothers and their wives sitting comfortably in the sitting room, enjoying glasses of wine.

“What did you do with all the minis? Lock them in the attic with the ghoul?” Charlie asked after the obligatory hugs and greetings had been given out.

“Ginny and Harry took them down to the pitch. Get their exuberance out before the party.” Hermione raised her glass and smiled. “And give us a little down time.”

“Don’t envy Ginny and Harry those odds, eight against two,” Ron said with a smirk. “But as long as they don’t come back with broken arms and legs, it is worth it.”

“And Mum is under strict orders by the caterer to stay out of the kitchen, this is one party that she isn’t going to spend the entire time fixing food.”

“Which is such nonsense, I’m sure Charlie is hungry and I can just nip in and--” His mum was halfway out of her seat before being pulled back by his father.

“Not today. Charlie’s a big boy, if he’s hungry--”

“I’m not, just ate a little while ago,” Charlie said hastily. “I think I’ll go help with the kids, let them get their Attack Charlie game out of the way.”

“We told you, it was a bad game to encourage.” Fleur smiled. “Gets rougher every time they see you.”

“I can take it.” Charlie gave a wave and headed out the backdoor towards the pitch. It felt good to be home and for the first time in as long as he could remember he didn’t feel the usual tension building. He knew it was because of the time he’d spent with Black. The path opened up to the Quidditch pitch, Harry and George had spent the previous summer fixing it up for the younger generation and it looked better than ever. He stood on the hill and watched the game, if one could call it that, in progress.

Ginny was on one side of the field, Harry the other, both shouting directions and encouragement to the eight children who were on toy brooms, that magically prevented them from flying more than five feet off the ground. Their ages ranged from 3 to 10 years old, and all of them a handful.

Ginny was laughing and pointing her wand at the littlest, Hugo, who was precariously close to falling off. Charlie recognized the safety charm she was using on Hugo, the same one he used to use on her when she was little. She wasn’t little anymore, she was all grown up and had been playing on the Harpies team since graduating from Hogwarts.

She and Harry had never gotten back together after the war ended and neither had seemed upset about it. They’d would have made an attractive couple, her flame red hair against his dark, her lightening fast smiles and laughs countered by Harry’s more cautious demeanor.

Harry had pulled aside Victoire, the oldest, and was giving her some tips on catching the snitch, by the look of it. Seeing that the two adults had the situation well under hand, Charlie sat on the grass and watched, not wanting to distract the kids from their game.

Harry himself had matured, gone was the impetuous youth who’d argued and flown off the handle repeatedly. Defeating a dark lord would do that to a man, Charlie thought. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts for a special eighth year for all the students whose education had been interrupted. afterwards, he’d dropped out of sight, and rumors flew about where he’d gone. Only the Weasleys knew that he’d gone to a cabin in Scotland, only coming back to England for rare appearances. Ron and Hermione had been mute about what he was doing, only saying that he was working things out for himself.

Charlie had still been reeling from the double loss of Fred and Remus, he'd scarcely paid attention to Harry's absence except for how it had affected his mother. She had been beside herself with worry. Forcing Ron to take him baskets of food, sure that he was starving. Nine months later he’d emerged, manuscript in hand. He’d tired of the mis-information about the final days and had produced his own telling. After the tremendous success of that story (Charlie doubted there was a wizarding house in Europe that didn’t have a copy of it or one of its translations), Harry had turned to writing fiction, edgy dark adventures that flirted with the Dark Arts, Charlie assumed that Ron was feeding him tantalizing tidbits from the Aurors files.

“UNCLE CHARLIE!”  
“GET HIM!”

“Run, Charlie, they’re on to you.” Ginny gave a warning laugh before the children flew their brooms at the top speed. Never interested in having his own, he didn't mind them and laughed as they attacked him in a heap of legs and arms down the hill.

Hours later Charlie stood watching his parents dance, one could tell how long they'd been married by how they moved around the dance floor--anticipating each other's moves, both of them smiling at the other.

"It is easy to tell why there were six of you Weasleys." Harry said as he came to stand next to Charlie, "They obviously have a great sex life."

Charlie choked on his beer. "Those are my parents you are talking about."

"They never told you the facts of life?"

"Of course, but it isn't what I want to think about."

"It's great though, how they have each other, been through so much together but love each other. Makes me wonder if I'll ever have the same."

"The great Harry Potter is thinking of settling down? Who is the lucky witch or is it a wizard?" Charlie turned to appraise Harry. Harry had been upfront with his bisexuality about a year after Voldemort had died, but had never shown any signs of settling down. He'd come stag to tonight's party.

"Nothing specific, there is only so long you can play the field before feeling that you are missing out on something. You never wanted more?"

"At one time, maybe." Charlie's mind flashed to Remus. "I've been a bachelor for too long, too set in my ways."

Whatever Harry was going to say was missed by Victoire coming up to him, tugging on his hand for a dance, "You promised, Uncle Harry."

Charlie watched as Harry carefully led her in the dance, in his hunter green wizarding robes, the wild hair of his youth tamed; it was no surprise that he consistently made the Witches Weekly most eligible bachelors list.

"Tell me again why you never went for Harry?" Ginny asked as she handed him a plate of cake.

"Before or after you were done with him?" Charlie winked at her before picking up the fork and trying a bit. Carrot cake. Not his favorite but he knew it was his dad’s.

"As if, just seems like you two would suit."

Charlie gave a laugh and shook his head, Harry had been in their family so long he was one of them. “Why don’t you worry about finding your own partner to make Mum happy, I’m fine the way I am.”

~|~|~|~

Typically in winter, Charlie's duties at the reserve were light, checking on the hibernating dragons and repairing equipment. He’d spend the long nights at home reading or down at the village pub. This winter, though, was different with every other weekend spent in Paris with Black. Gradually, with each session, they learned more about how to push the edge of what they each needed.

The only niggling complaint he had was the refusal of Black to reveal himself. Charlie asked, at the end of one particular session where they had both seemed to have connected completely, but Black only said that he would reveal himself after the six months was up.

 

~|~|~|~

Black finished healing the marks from the night’s session, and stretched out next to him on the bed so that he faced Charlie, running his hands along the line of Charlie’s body. Charlie let him, he’d gotten used to Black’s need to touch him. Fingers drifted on his chest and, even though the room was completely dark, Charlie realized that Black was tracing the outline of his tattoo. Reaching up he slid the hand away, giving the fingers a squeeze before letting go.

“Who was he?”

Charlie stiffened at the question and had to fight the urge to say it was none of his business. Black shifted, sliding his leg on top of Charlie’s, consciously or unconsciously forcing them closer. “People get tattoos to remember important times in their lives or people they love, most usually.”

“What makes you think it wasn’t the other?” Charlie stalled.

“You touch it, when we’re done. Press your hand against your heart, the tattoo. It has to be a lover.”

Charlie swallowed hard. “I didn’t realize--”

“I didn’t think you knew you were doing it, seems more like a reflex, subconscious thing.“

Charlie tried to remember doing it in front of Black but couldn’t, it was something he’d done for years. A way of remembering Remus, keeping him close. The tattoo was the silhouette of an oak tree in winter, a waxing moon visible through the outstretched branches. The last few days before a full moon was when Remus had been most in need of Charlie, it was when they’d been closest. He’d had the tattoo inked on the waxing moon closest to the first anniversary of his death.

“He died on the 2nd of May,” Charlie said, at last.

“A lot of good people died that day,” Black agreed with such certainty that Charlie had little doubt he’d been at Hogwarts that day. Over a thousand wizards and witches had poured through the gates to fight in that battle, it wasn’t really surprising if Black had been there.

“There were many others who died, my brother among them, but this is for Remus.” Charlie released a deep breath as he said his name.

“Ten years is a long time to still miss him like you do, you must have loved him very much.”

“I was whole, when I was with him.” It was more than Charlie had ever admitted even to himself and he didn’t know why he was telling Black.

“He introduced you into this world, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Charlie turned on his side away from Black, talking about Remus was not something he wanted to do. He didn’t protest as Black spooned himself behind him and Charlie fell asleep to the sensation of Black’s kisses on his shoulder and the realization that as much as Black liked to kiss, lick, and touch his body, they’d never kissed on the lips.

 

~|~|~|~

It was the 17th of February Charlie was back in his cottage. He’d returned from Paris an hour earlier and was still enjoying the tightness of his strained muscles and aching arse.

He stretched out on the bed, replaying everything that they’d done together over the past four months, Black never failed to find new ways to entice and excite.

The boastful words Black had spoken the first day they’d met had proven true -- he really did understand what Charlie needed. Session after session, Black had pushed them both to the edge. The overwhelming tension Charlie had lived with since Remus’s death had gone away. Instead of dreading the need to go to the club and hating himself for it, Charlie now eagerly anticipated the next session.

Black seemed to be interested in Charlie for more than just the obvious physical connection they shared. More often than not, they would wake in the middle of the night, Black would talk about a current event, or discuss books or favorite music groups. They stayed away from anything too personal but it was those conversations in the dark that made Charlie think that there was something more to what they were doing than the sessions and the sex.

There were only two months left in their agreement and he had no idea of Black’s intentions. Would they just part ways? Charlie wanted more, but Black hadn’t given any indication yet that it would continue.

Charlie got out of bed and kicked away the rug and looked at the iron latch that lay flush against the wood floorboards. It had been years since he’d been down there. Before he had time to rethink the decision he reached down and pulled up on the latch, opening the trap and exposing the stairs. Casting a Lumos as he went down the stairs, ducking his head automatically to avoid the support beam and into the cellar.

In the far corner a thermal hot spring bubbled; the pool was the reason he’d chosen the cottage. The same thermally heated water that bubbled up in the hot spring also provided the water for his shower, giving him a never ending source of hot water that was always the right temperature. He and Remus had relaxed in the pool after every session, their arms around each other as they floated in the natural bath.

In the middle of the room, was the dais with its leather straps and iron rings fastened to each corner was thickly covered in dust, On the wall was another set of rings and the whips and floggers hung from their hooks where Remus had put them the last time.

Dust motes floated through the air, Charlie pulled out his wand and cast a housekeeping charm. The room looked starker without it. For a time after Remus died, Charlie had come down to the room, to sit and remember. When it became too painful, he’d kept the door closed.

He’d never found anyone he wanted to share the room with, until now. The agreement with Black could end and they would part ways, but if it didn’t...Charlie swallowed hard and looked around.

It was time to let go.

He walked through the room, touching the whips that still hung on the wall, remembering the sound that Remus would make as he swung them. The strength in his wiry frame.

It was time to let go.

His hands shook as he took the whips and crops down from the wall and piled them on the floor. From the open shelves mounted to the far wall he added the leather restraints and cuffs, the leather cracked and dried from the years of neglect. He and Remus used to carefully rub the leather with saddle soap to preserve the suppleness of the leather and protect it from the moist air from the spring. The ropes and silk ties were added to the pile next.

As he pulled down a box of ropes from the shelf, something dropped to the ground. Bending down to pick it up, Charlie’s hand shook as he realized it was a shirt, Remus’s shirt. Burying his face in it, he hoped for some lingering scent of Remus, the pipe tobacco, or chocolate, or wood smoke, those smells that had been distinctly Remus, but they had all faded away.

Charlie sank to the ground holding the shirt in his hands, tears running down his cheeks. Rubbing the spot where the collar button was missing, he could remember Remus’s laugh when Charlie had chided him for losing it. “Then you shouldn’t have fallen in with a werewolf, my love.”

It was with shaking hands that Charlie placed the shirt on the growing pile on the floor, turning away quickly to keep from snatching it back. Resolutely he walked back to the shelves and went back to work clearing them.

At last, he was finished. Charlie checked to see if he’d missed anything, but it was all there. Fearing he’d lose his nerve, Charlie took out his wand. Whispering the words as he made the sweeping motion needed for the charm, he watched as everything disappeared in a shower of gold sparkles. His eyes burning as he looked around. The room looked almost like it had when he and Remus had first started fixing it up, it was ready for a new chapter in his life.

As he climbed up the stairs and into the bedroom he heard Bill’s voice. Bill hated floo-calling and if he was using it, it had to be an emergency. Charlie raced into the sitting room, Bill’s head floated in the flames. “Where the hell have you been?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mum. She’s collapsed, we’re at St. Mungo’s.”

“What do you mean collapsed? She fainted?” Charlie’s mind raced as he tried to imagine what would have happened.

“They think it is her heart. The healers are worried.” Bill looked over his shoulder and said something to someone behind him, and then turned back to Charlie. “I still have to find Ginny, get back here.”

Charlie stared at the fireplace as the flames faded away. It was ridiculous, his mother was too strong, too young, she still had decades of life ahead of her. If it had been George, Charlie would’ve suspected something. A prank to see if George could get Charlie to apparte across the continent, but not Bill. Panicked, Charlie started to calculate how long it would take to apparate, he’d gotten spoiled with taking the Portkeys to Paris.

Portkeys. Black.

Racing to his desk, he scribbled _'Need a Portkey to St. Mungo’s. Family emergency'_ on a piece of paper and put it in the lacquered box and turned the dial. He didn’t care if he was pushing the limits of their arrangement, he had to try. It would save him over two hours and the exhausting series of apparations. He’d give Black fifteen minutes to respond, if he didn’t hear from him then he would leave.

Heading to the bedroom he threw some clothes and toiletries into his canvas carry-all. When he went back to the main room the box was red. Dropping the bag on the ground he opened it.

 _'Working on it, give me ten minutes. Don’t Apparate!_ ' Black’s writing was a hasty slanted scrawl.

Closing his eyes in relief, Charlie set the box down on the table next to his armchair and waited, his hands clasped to keep him from fidgeting. His mother was the glue that held them altogether. He couldn’t imagine his father without her. He’d be lost, Charlie knew. As much as losing Remus had grieved him, he knew that his father would be at sea without his Molly.

He glared at the box, it was still a frustrating black color. He thanked the gods that Black was willing to help him with this. At last it turned red. Opening the lid he saw a green marble and a note.

_Tap with your wand and say Red, it will activate immediately. Take the box with you. Let me know if you need me._

Charlie didn’t waste any time, taking out the marble and shoving the box into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Tapping the marble with the wand, he said ‘Red’, and closed his eyes as the Portkey activated. The vortex of color and wind swept through him and Charlie felt a tightening pressure sucking away his ability to breathe as he traveled farther than he’d ever Portkeyed before.

He felt solid ground beneath his feet and the roar faded from his ears, chest aching for air, Charlie opened his eyes, and saw he was in a room filled with cleaning supplies and broken furniture, a green door on the far side of the room. Taking a minute to catch his breath, he pushed it open and found himself in the lobby of St. Mungo’s.

“Charlie Weasley?” A mediwitch was standing just outside of the door and Charlie nodded at her, still disoriented. “This way, your family is waiting for you.”

“How did you know I was coming?”

“We were sent an owl to expect you in the priority network.” She turned and swiftly walked up the stairs to the second floor and then turned down the corridor to the family waiting room at the very end of the corridor. Standing in the doorway Charlie looked around, his brothers and their wives were standing in groups of three and four, talking closely.

Bill looked over at him in astonishment. “How did you get here so fast?” Bill asked as they gathered around him.

“A friend got me a Portkey.” Charlie said impatiently, “How’s Mum?”

“The healers came out a few minutes ago and said she was stable, for now. But they are still looking to see what what happened,” Hermione explained, “They’ll let us know as soon as there is an update.”

“Where’s Dad?”

George grinned, “He’s with Mum. Threatened the lot with his wand when they tried to make him leave.” Charlie nodded, he couldn’t imagine his father being anywhere else.

“You, okay? You just made a mighty long Portkey jump,” Harry said as he walked up to them.

Charlie nodded absentmindedly, his mind was still whirling at how quickly things had changed. It had been only a few hours ago that he’d left the club, he could still feel the comforting ache in his body from the session he’d shared with Black, and now this. And all they could do was stand around and wait. He looked around and saw who was missing.

“Did you find Ginny?”

“She’s coming, was in Wales with the team.”

Before the words were even out of George’s mouth, Ginny was racing into the room, her long hair flying as she looked around wide-eyed at the gathering until she saw Charlie standing next to Harry. “Oh Merlin! Charlie’s here, is she that bad?”

Charlie laughed a laugh he didn’t feel as he pulled her into a hug. “I would come if Mum had a paper cut, you know that.” Ginny sobbed in his arms and he held her, glad that he had a sister to counter the stoic worry of his brothers, “She’ll be okay,” he whispered in her ear. “She has to be, she’s mum, you know.” Ginny gave a hiccuping sob but nodded, her face buried into his neck. He patted her hair and hoped that he was right. “They are working on her and Dad is in there, making sure they do their job.”

“Who’d like tea?” he heard someone say, his arm still around Ginny, he looked to see Fleur and Angelina walking into the room carrying tea trays.

“And we have a nourishment, because we know that Molly would never forgive us if the whole family got together and no one got anything to eat.” Angelina added with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “We won’t tell her it came from the cafeteria though.”

Harry helped the women distribute the tea and then joined Charlie and Ginny. They made small talk, and sipped the horrible cafeteria tea. After a few minutes Ginny looked at Harry in confusion, “Don’t get the wrong idea, but I have to check something.” She leaned forward and smelled Harry’s neck and then turned and did the same to Charlie. “That’s what I thought. What cologne are you two wearing?”

“What are you on about?” Charlie looking between Ginny and Harry in confusion, he didn’t wear cologne, never had done.

“You and Harry, you’re wearing the same cologne again. I noticed at the anniversary party, and again at Christmas. but it isn’t anything I’ve ever smelled before.”

“Ginny, your mum is in St. Mungo’s, do you really want to talk about perfume?” Harry gave a worried look at Charlie before turning to Ginny.

“I don’t wear colog--” Charlie’s protest faded as he realized that the only scent that she could possibly be smelling on him was the ointment that Black had used on his lash marks just a few hours earlier. The ointment that Black had said was made for him by special order. Charlie stared and felt his world collapsing as he took in Harry’s jawline, the dip in his chin, their matching heights, Harry’s fit body in his Muggle jeans and jumper. It all matched. He staggered back, the cup falling from his hand.

“What’s wrong?” He heard Ginny asking, as Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.

“Don’t. Not here,” Harry said as Charlie tried to pull away from him as soon as they were through the door. He pulled Charlie down the corridor and around the corner.

“You… you’re...”

And then it was Black talking to him, his familiar deep sexy voice that was not at all like Harry Potter’s voice.“You’re in shock. Take a breath and hold it.” Harry was pushing him to the wall, his arms pinned and captive under Harry’s firm grip. “Let it go.” Charlie struggled as his mind fought the instinctive response to obey.

Harry Potter was Black.  
Black was Harry Potter.

His brother’s best friend. His sister’s ex. Harry was family.

The familiar press against his body, the deep growl of his voice confirmed what his mind was telling him. “I was going to to tell you, in April. I didn’t plan on you finding out like this.”

“Harry...Charlie? What’s going on?” Charlie heard Ron talking and turned his head away.

“Go away, Ron,” Harry said. “Leave us.” The command in the voice was all Black, but Charlie wasn’t surprised when he heard Ron retreating.

“Breathe. Close your eyes and just breathe,” Black said it into his ear and Charlie fought every instinct he had to obey the commands that was in Black’s voice and the grip that held his arms pinned to the wall.

“Let me go.” He spoke with a calmness that didn’t match the racing of his heart.

“Red...”

“My name is Charlie, but you knew that all along, didn’t you?” Charlie’s eyes squeezed shut as he fought to regain control. “Let me go.”

“Charlie…”

“No. Not now. We are at St. Mungo’s for fuck’s sake. My mother could be dying This is not the time or place. Stay away from me.” He pushed away from the wall and stalked down the hall until he found the loo. Locking the door, he leaned against it, his body shaking.

All this time it had been Harry.

He went to the sink and turned on the taps, only as he cupped his hands together to fill with water to splash on his face, did he see the black and red bond mark that had been apart of him for the past four months was gone. The water spilled over his hands as he stared down at his bare wrist. The agreement had been set to be void if he looked at Black’s face, or learned his identity. Black and Red were done.

He walked back into the room, hoping no one had noticed his exit, being pulled by the arm by Harry. By the way everyone stared at him, he knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Harry was the only one that hadn’t turned to look at him, staring instead out the single window in the room, his hands shoved in his back pockets. Ignoring the everyone else, Charlie walked up to Bill. “Any word on Mum?”

Bill shook his head, “A mediwitch came out a little while ago, said that the healer would be here soon.” Bill glanced over his shoulder at where Harry was standing. “Are you going to share what that little drama was about?”

“No.”

“Ron and Hermione tried to get Harry to say but he wouldn’t--”

“Leave off, Bill.”

Fortunately Charlie was saved by his older brother’s persistence by their father walking into the room, his normally jolly face, lined with worry.

“She’s going to be okay. It was her heart, but the healers were able to clear the artery and she is resting now. Will take her a little while to get back on her feet though, no more long hours in the kitchen cooking.

There was a single release of breath as they all exhaled at once, as everyone gathered around Arthur to get more details and to hug him, Charlie looked up to see Harry slipping out the doorway.

~|~|~|~

An hour later, assured that their mother was sleeping and out of danger, the family dispersed. Charlie and Ginny decided to go back to the Burrow and as Charlie stepped out of the floo, Ginny who come through before him was talking to Harry who sat at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

“Why did you leave?” Ginny was asking, but Harry was looking over her shoulder at Charlie as he straightened up out of the fireplace. “Dad asked about you.”

“I need to talk to Charlie, Ginny.” Harry said quietly, not looking up from the table.

Ginny looked back at Charlie and bit her lip as if trying to keep from asking any more questions. “Okay.”

They waited, the only sounds in the house were the creaking of her footsteps on the staircase and the ticks of the clock in the kitchen. Charlie looked at it, the hands for his parents were both pointing to St. Mungo’s. Charlie heard the sound of Ginny’s door closing and waited, staring down at his feet he realized he was still wearing the dress boots he’d worn back from Paris. Paris. His arse still ached from the pounding that Harry had given him.

Harry’s voice was so low Charlie had to strain to hear it. “I was going to tell you. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that--”

“Why? That’s all I want to know is why. Why lie to me--”

“I didn’t lie--”

“The hell you didn’t. Lies of omission are still lies.”

“You never thought of me as anything more than a bonus kid brother, I wanted more.” Harry gave a laugh, “Tried chatting you up whenever you were here but you weren’t interested.”

Charlie stared at him in disbelief, “So you thought you would fuck me and then tell me six months into it?”

Harry stood up and shook his head. “It wasn’t like that--”

“It was exactly like that.” Charlie slammed his fist on the table, fighting to keep his voice down so that Ginny wouldn’t hear. “I knew I shouldn’t trust someone who wasn’t willing to show his face. Do you know how important trust is in a Dom/sub relationship? It is everything. It is fucking everything. Like a fool I was willing to push away those doubts. Congratulations, you got me good.”

“Charlie--”

“No.” Charlie had never hated anyone as much as he hated Harry Potter at that moment. “Maybe when you’re older, more experienced, you’ll understand that you don’t do this to someone. For the sake of the family we’ll pretend this never happened, but I want you to stay away from me.”

Charlie reached down and grabbed the carry-all that had his clothes in it. Opening it up he pulled the box out and set it in front of Harry. Without looking back, he turned and went out the door to the back garden. It was only when he was well clear of the house did he allow himself to sink to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

For the next six months, Charlie felt like one of the Inferi: he did his job, he ate, he cleaned, he went to the tavern at night and listened to the banter and watched the chess matches, he did everything he had to do look like he was still among the living. It was in the dark of the night when it was the hardest. When the memories of what it had been like to lie next to Black in bed and feel the touch of his hand stroking him.

After the scare with his mother’s health Charlie realized he couldn’t take for granted that his parents were going to be around and healthy forever, so he apparated to England attend more family events which unfortunately meant he was forced to endure seeing Harry during the visits.

Charlie didn’t speak to him and it was fairly obvious that Harry avoided being in the same room as him, but at times it couldn’t be helped, during meals or when the family was gathered in the front room, Charlie could feel Harry watching him. Each visit became more difficult, and Charlie hated himself for still needing what Black had given him.

On the eleventh anniversary of the end of Voldemort, they all went to Hogwarts for the ceremony. Harry stood with the family, but slipped away afterwards and Charlie didn’t see him the rest of the day.

In August, Charlie traveled back for Ginny’s birthday party, and Harry was missing. He kept an eye on the door, expecting him to walk in at any time. It was Hermione who told him that Harry had gone to his cottage in Scotland in May and they hadn’t seen him since.

“He said he was behind in his next book, needed to concentrate.”

~|~|~|~

The owl was waiting for him when he got back to his cottage, just as the pinks and orange of the sunrise were lighting the sky. He’d spent the last eight hours assisting in the birth of a Norwegian Ridgeback. Both mother and young had survived, but it had been touch-and-go most of the night.

Flipping the owl a treat he’d untied the scroll and tossed it on the table next to his bed. It was early afternoon when he woke, feeling grimy from having slept in his clothes. Stripping as he walked to the bathroom, he stood under the pounding spray, letting the water pour over him, his eyes shut as he let the water try and wash away the never-ending tension.

It was only when he walked back into the bedroom that he saw the scroll on the table and remembered the owl. He picked up the scroll and tied the ribbon and gave a quick inhale of breath at the familiar slanted writing.

_Charlie,_

_I know you asked me to not contact you, but I hope that enough time has passed that you will read this. I need to apologize and while I don’t expect you to accept the apology, I would like to offer it, along with a better explanation._

_I’ve worn masks all my life._

_As a child in my uncle’s house, even at the Muggle school, I knew I was different and didn’t belong. I did everything I could to conceal who I was so that I wouldn’t be punished or ostracized._

_After learning I was a wizard, and coming to Hogwarts, I thought I’d at last be able to be me, but I couldn’t because my name separated me from everyone else._

_Every day hundreds of pairs of eyes would be watching me and I didn’t dare show any signs that I was afraid or what I was going through. When, I learned that Voldemort was actually inside my head, I was terrified, but I had to conceal it all. To function, to not give into the terror, I wore the mask._

_After Voldemort died, I thought I finally had a shot at being free. But the spring of that last year at Hogwarts, I was approached by the Ministry. The Death Eaters were organizing again, and they wanted me to help fight them, and I told them no, I couldn’t do it. Then, the Bainbridge incident happened, and I knew I couldn’t not fight._

_So I put on another mask, the one I’ve worn for the past ten years. I became an Unspeakable._

_The year I was supposed to have been hidden away writing my first book, I was really in training learning the Dark Arts needed to fight the remaining Death Eaters. The book was written on scratch paper while on stakeouts in ditches and filthy warehouses all over Europe. Being a writer became my cover story._

_I lost track of how many disguises I’ve worn over the past ten years, there was the public persona, the Harry Potter the public knows, who I am with your family: author and easy going bloke; and the other one, the Unspeakable who has been steeped in the darkest side of the evil for so long that I feared that I would forget what side I was fighting._

_Then, there is the final mask:_

_I’ve known for a long time that I liked men as well as women. The thing that drives people like us, I hid those desires, until I finally understood what I needed and learned of places, like the club, where it was acceptable._

_I’d been interested in you for years, but could never get you to notice me. When I saw you at the club I thought that concealing my identity was just a way for you to get to know me without dismissing me because I was Harry. Being Black was just one more mask. After having worn masks all my life, donning an actual one, or asking you to, didn’t seem any different. It didn’t occur to me to see it from your side. I wanted you to get to know me without my face._

_Black was me. I only concealed my identity, but what I shared with you, the fantasies, the desire, was all genuine._

_I understand how deeply I betrayed and hurt you, physically and mentally. I am so sorry._

_It comes too late, but I’ve finally learned the lesson I should’ve learned a long time ago, that you can’t live your entire life behind a mask. I’ve quit the Unspeakables. I am going to take some time, travel. I don’t have a plan but hopefully along the way, I’ll figure out who or what I’m supposed to be. With me gone it will be easier for you. I think it has been obvious to your family that something had happened between us, and now you won’t have to spend your visits with them pretending that you don’t hate me._

_Harry._

_p.s. If you ever need to reach me, ask Hermione._

 ~|~|~|~

Charlie returned to England for Hugo’s birthday party at the end of October, it was hard to not look around for Harry, even though he knew he wouldn’t be there. He retreated to the back stoop, watching the little ones playing some game organized by George. The back door swung open and he looked back to see Bill. He sat down next to Charlie and handed him one of the two beers he was holding.

“Hard to believe how quickly they are growing, Victoire already at Hogwarts, Hugo is going to be there next year. I forget how much I miss, living so far away.” Charlie commented as he took a sip of beer.

“Why didn’t you ever move back?”

Charlie looked over at him with surprise but Bill’s eyes were on his youngest who was swinging from a tree branch.

“What do you mean?”

Bill gave a little shrug of his shoulder. “After everything was settled out, you didn’t need to be in Romania any more, yet you stayed.”

They both had worked for the Order after leaving Hogwarts, he’d gone to Romania to keep an eye and ear out for rumors about Voldemort, and Bill to Egypt for a while and before being asked to monitor the activities at Gringotts.

“Turns out I like dragons.”

“It’s been what? Seventeen years? That is a long time to be so far away. Mum and Dad aren’t going to be this young forever, your nieces and nephews are going to grow up hardly knowing you.”

Charlie took a sip of his beer, “I like what I do, and I come back to visit. Trying to come back more now.”

“What happened between you and Harry?”

“I’m not talking about that, Bill.”

“It is obvious, to all of us, that you and he had a falling out. And that has me stumped because I didn’t think that you didn’t have a clue that Harry liked you, and now you’ve had some kind of lover’s spat--”

“What?”

“What happened at the hospital? You bloody well know what hap--”

“No. I meant about Harry liking me.”

“Did you or did you not have something going on with Harry? If you didn’t then why is he not around anymore?”

“Bill.” Charlie growled at him. “Tell me what you meant about Harry liking me.”

“You don’t know still? That’s ridiculous, it was so obvious. Harry tried so hard for I don’t know how many years. Even Percy bet me that Harry would finally get your attention at Ron’s wedding. I made a galleon on that one, you talked with him and then wandered off. Would have been funny, if it hadn’t been for the expression on his face as you walked away. Come to think of it, that was about the last time I noticed him trying. Gave up, I thought.” He would’ve gone on but Charlie stopped him.

“You’re saying, you all knew. Even Percy? And you never said anything to me?” Charlie looked at him in utter confusion.

“I figured you just weren’t interested and didn’t want to outright refuse him. But if that wasn’t the case what happened between you two at St. Mungo’s? One minute everything was fine, and the next you two had stopped talking to each other.”

“I never noticed, I really am an idiot.” Charlie set his beer down. When Harry had talk about it, Charlie had dismissed it entirely, thinking that Harry had said it to justify what he’d done, but if his whole family knew about it...

“Why did you two stop talking to each other? You didn’t do anything stupid, like have a one-nighter with him? Did you?”

Charlie winced, knowing how horrified his brother would be if he’d learned that Charlie had done a lot more than that.

Bill looked at him in disbelief, “Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t have a one-night stand with Harry? How could you--”

“No. No, it wasn’t...it wasn’t anything like that. It was something, but I can’t tell you.”

Charlie wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and looked out to see the kids playing at the yard, to avoid Bill’s accusing gaze.

“Can’t or won’t? Fine, keep your secrets, but I’m going to tell you what you are going to do next. Harry sent me an owl for my birthday... that’s right, he remembered it, even though you forgot. He said he wasn’t going to be home for Christmas. And that will break Mum’s heart, and I don’t want you and whatever is going on with Harry, to spoil her Christmas. So you are going to sort things out with Harry, and then you are both going to show up at the Burrow with smiles on your faces, so that Mum can stop worrying that her adopted son doesn’t feel welcome in the family anymore.”

“Bill.”

“I’m serious, Charlie, I don’t care what went wrong, fix it.”

“I don’t even know where he is--”

“Figure it out.” Bill stood and walked down the steps to the garden.

He returned home the next afternoon, and spent the time recuperating from the apparations in his favorite chair, watching the changing light in the window as the sky clouded over, the low hanging clouds promised that there would be snow-cover by morning. The cold wind whistled as it snuck under the doorway, making the entire house cold. He got up and stirred up the fire, adding another log.

He tried to think back to Ron’s wedding, he certainly had talked to Harry at it, but it’d been years ago and he couldn’t remember what they’d talked about or Harry making any effort that would seem like he was interested. But if Percy and Bill had actually noticed enough to bet on it…how could he have been so unaware?

He replayed the confrontation with Harry at St. Mungo’s and the letter Harry had written in apology. Harry had seemed genuine and he couldn’t forget the feel of Black’s hand on his skin as he stroked him. And the way that Black had worshiped Charlie’s body, laving it with his tongue and lips. The tenderness in the way that Black had cared for him after their sessions. And Black was Harry.

Maybe Harry wasn’t the one who should have apologized. 

 

~|~|~|~

In the end, he knew what he had to do, but how to do it. Harry’s letter had said to talk to Hermione if he needed to get ahold of him. He sent an owl off to her. A day later there was an owl and package delivered to him.

 

_Charlie,_

_Harry asked me to send you this package if you were ever to ask, I don’t know what is inside._

_All the best,_

_Hermione_

_p.s. Harry wouldn’t say what had happened or why he was leaving, but if there is anything I or Ron can do to help, please let me know. We miss him._

He sat down, carefully holding the package wrapped in brown paper and string, the size alone told him what was inside. Undoing the string, the paper fall away, revealing the black lacquered box he’d given back to Harry.

Charlie ran his fingers along the detailed metal work and he’d expected a floo address or location to send an owl, not the box. Opening the lid he gave a sigh of disappointment that it was empty. The Quaffle had clearly been left in his hands.

It took a half-dozen drafts before he finally grasped that what he needed to say, couldn’t be said in a letter. Picking up the quill he wrote out:

_Black,_

_We need to talk._

_Red.  
Blackthorn Cottage_

Placing it in the box, he turned the dial.

It was an hour before the box turned red, an hour during which Charlie paced from one end of the cottage to the other. When he at last saw the flare of magic and the box change color he stopped mid-step and just stared at it.

“Get a grip, Weasley,” he chastened himself as he walked over and opened it.

_I’m on my way. Will take a half-day or more to get there._

A half-day? That meant he almost certainly wasn’t in Europe any more. Charlie sat and stared at the note. He hadn’t signed it. Not with Black or Harry. Maybe he’d been in a hurry, or maybe because he just didn’t know how to sign it. Charlie had used Red deliberately.

He looked out the window, the wind had kicked up and snow covered the ground, dampening the impulse to walk off his anxiety. Needing to do something, he started to clean: dusting, scrubbing, scouring. All the while he debated the significance of Harry not signing his name. As he put fresh sheets on the bed and tidied his bedroom he refused to think that it was nothing more than good housekeeping. Fortunately he was saved from any additional rationalizations when an arctic fox patronus, burst into the room.

 _“We need you here, grabă.”_ barked the voice of the other reserve foreman. As he scribbled a note to leave for Harry, Charlie’s mind raced through what could have happened at the reserve.

He returned to the house, singed and exhausted. A first-time Horntail mother had attempted to roast the keeper bringing her evening meal. By the time they’d rescued the keeper and contained the panicked mother and her yearling, it was past midnight.

Not bothering to wash-up, Charlie stripped his clothes off and climbed under the covers, sleep didn’t come easily he tossed and turned, his thoughts filled with a confusing meld of Remus, Harry and Black. There was the creak of a floorboard near the window. Squinting into the darkness, he saw a familiar silhouette in front of the window.

“Black?”

“Harry,” came the reply and the shadow took a step towards the bed.

“Same thing.” Charlie was half-asleep, he rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to clear away the fuzziness.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What time is it?”

“Close to three.”

Charlie groaned and slid over to the far side of the bed. “Come to bed, it’s too late--early, for talking.”

“Charlie…” The strain was obvious in Harry’s voice.

“Harry...” Charlie said, matching his tone. “How about this one time, you obey my order. Come to bed, it’s cold and I’m exhausted.” Not waiting to see what Harry was going to do, he turned on his side, flipping his pillow to the cool side and closed his eyes. He had no misperceptions about what could happen come morning or sooner, but for now he knew they both needed sleep. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he let it out as he heard the creak of the floorboards, followed by the whisper of clothes falling to the floor, and finally, the give of the mattress as Harry slid onto the bed.

He was cold, Charlie could feel him shivering despite the covers.

“Scoot back, let me warm you up.” Charlie said as he turned to face him and moving closer.

“Charlie, you’re going to kill me.” Harry said but he didn’t protest as Charlie slid his arm over Harry’s waist and spooned him.

“That would be counterproductive.”

“You smell like burnt hair.”

“Dragons. Fire. Hair.” Charlie murmured as he fell asleep, feeling the soft touch of Harry’s hair against his cheek.

 

~|~|~|~

The room was filled with sunlight, he’d forgotten to pull the curtains. Harry’s body was outlined under the covers, his head buried beneath a pillow, only the tan skin of his neck visible. Charlie closed his eyes, things had not gone as he’d planned after sending the note --the emergency at the reserve and Harry’s late night arrival He certainly hadn’t planned on ordering Harry into bed, but he’d been too exhausted to even think let alone talk to him sensibly.

Charlie looked over at Harry’s sleeping figure, by the rise and fall of the covers, he was deep asleep and would be for awhile. He slid out of the bed cautiously, he needed to wash away the stench from the previous night.

Charlie made quick work of his shower, scrubbing his hair clean and grimacing at the feel of the missing hair on the left side. He’d have to take the scissors to it later to even it out. Rubbing the towel roughly over his scalp he went back into the bedroom to get dressed. Harry turned over, but didn’t wake as Charlie crept out the door.

Walking through to the kitchen, Charlie looked around, trying to see his home through Harry’s eyes. It had been a decade since he he’d had a lover in the cottage. Not that Harry was his lover at the moment, but Charlie wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t want Black back, that he was Harry, was a complication that he still wasn’t sure about.

Setting the kettle to boil, Charlie opened the cooling cupboard to see what there was to fry-up for breakfast. A bit of bacon and four eggs, Charlie frowned, it was hardly enough for a decent breakfast for one, but he could supplement it with toast.

As he was spooning coffee into the cafetière he heard the shower running. His fingers tightened on the spoon as he thought of Black--Harry--naked in his shower, the water running over his body, his cock. Charlie closed his eyes and imagined him Harry stroking himself, wanking away his morning wood. He’d have a heavy shadow of whiskers, Charlie thought, and hoped that Harry wasn’t shaving. He’d always loved the feel of Black’s whiskers against his skin.

The whistle of the kettle summoned him back to the present and he made the coffee. Peeling the rashers of bacon off the waxed paper, he dropped them into the pan heating on the cooktop. As Charlie turned to reach for the eggs, he saw Harry leaning against the archway.

“Morning,” Charlie said as he took him in from head to toe. Harry hadn’t shaved and it looked like he’d just raked his fingers through his hair that was still wet from the shower. His untucked white cotton shirt made Harry’s tanned skin all the darker, and through the shirttail there was the glimpse of a silver buckle and leather belt, and faded denims. His feet were bare. Charlie licked his dry lips as the sight sent a shiver of desire went straight to his groin.

“Morning.”

The bright flush on Harry’s cheeks reminded Charlie just how awkward this reunion was. Forcing himself to move, he motioned towards the cafetière on the table. “Will you finish up with the coffee? Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, as he went over to the table and pressed down on the plunger. “I’m sorry I got in so late.”

“I was surprised you got here so quick.” Charlie opened a cupboard and pulled out to mugs and set them on the table. “Where were you?”

“Margaret River Valley in Australia.” Harry poured coffee into the mugs, and handed one back to Charlie. “I was just sitting down to breakfast when I got your message, I don’t know when I ate last, don’t think my body even knows what time it is.”

“Did you have portkeys? How did you get here so fast?”

“Only one, I had one because I’d been about to leave Australia for Johannesburg, I didn’t want to dink around trying to get portkeys, so I apparated.”

“That is over 12,000 kilometers, you must be completely wiped out.” Charlie said, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t splinch myself, at least. I didn’t know why you’d sent the message, but didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to you.”

“Harry--”

“Let’s eat first, before talking…” Harry gave a grimace. “If we only have one chance to have this conversation, I don’t want you fretting over burnt bacon.”

Charlie opened his mouth to object, but knew he was right. Charlie was starving and Harry probably hadn’t eaten since Australia. He turned back to the stove and turned the bacon, conscious of Harry watching him.

Charlie pulled the bacon out of the pan and drained some of the fat out before cracking the eggs into the pan. He pulled out the toaster and put in three slices of bread. When everything was ready he set the plates on the table.

“Hope this is okay, I didn’t get to the shops this week.”

Harry already had a fork full of eggs in his mouth. “It’s great, more than I expected, better than Ron could ever do, ” he said when he’d swallowed. “Do you have to go into the reserve today?”

“No, I took a few days off, last night was an emergency that I was called in on.” Remembering his close call, Charlie lifted his hand to feel the hair that had been singed. “How bad does it look?”

“Pretty awful, to be honest.” Harry said, “You’re lucky you didn’t get burned.”

“It’s why I wear my hair so short. When I first got here, grew my hair longer, but after the first mating season I realized what a bad idea it was to have any extra flammable material on my body.”

“They should cover that in Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, ‘how to make yourself less flammable’.”

“Would probably help boost the ratio of first year handlers who stay over to the next year.” Not hungry, Charlie pushed back his plate and sipped his coffee, as he waited for Harry to finish eating.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as Harry set down his fork.

“I was...surprised,” Harry said it with a grimace. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“I know.” Charlie shifted uncomfortably, “I’m sorry for that.”

Harry took in a deep breath and looked at Charlie. “Why did you send the note?”

Charlie smiled at Harry’s directness, addressing the pink hippogriff in the room. “I wanted to apologize, for what I said to you that day.”

“You could have done that in a letter.”

“Not all of it. I need to apologize for the way I over-reacted, there were reasons but not ones that would justify what I said to you. I was angry and it wasn’t my best moment. After you sent the letter, I started to replay every encounter I could remember, when we’d been Harry and Charlie, and even at the club as Red and Black, trying to figure out how I’d been so oblivious. Bill chewed me out when I was back home a few days ago, he’d known--” he broke off, not wanting Harry to be embarrassed that his interest in Charlie had been known by his family. “He’d guessed, at least, that you were interested and that I had never had a clue.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Harry sat back, stretching out his legs and crossing them. “I even asked you out for a pint once, and you showed up with George and Angelina. I figured that it was your way of telling me you weren’t interested.”

Charlie blanched and tried to remember being invited out for a drink with Harry and had no recollection of it. “No, embarrassed to say that I’m as clueless as Ron--”

“Ron knew that I liked you.”

“Right, worse than Ron in cluelessness, I truly am an idiot.” Charlie said grimly.

“Or, you were still in love with Remus and weren’t ready to even think about anyone else that way.”

Charlie ran his finger along the handle of his mug. “There’s that.”

“I didn’t understand it at the time. It was only after we’d been together at the club, that I realized how much you’d loved Remus, how much you missed him. I never meant to deceive you, well, I did, but not for bad reasons. I thought that if we could connect, and you could get to know me without knowing it was me, and that you might like us together enough to make up for the fact that I’m almost family.”

“I understand that now, when I first found out at St Mungo’s. I was stressed, worrying about Mum, and then finding out you--”

“No, you had a right to be angry. What you said at the Burrow that night. Trust is the foundation that what we do is based on, and I violated your trust. One of the first things you asked me was ‘Do I know you?’ And I evaded you, lies of omission as you said.”

“I chose to continue. I wanted it.” Charlie stood up abruptly. “Can I show you something?”  
He hadn’t considered showing Harry the cellar but it seemed the easiest way to make him understand.

“What?” Harry asked as Charlie led him into the bedroom and kicked away the rug covering the trapdoor. “What’s down there?”

“Easier for you to see than explain.” Pulling up the door, Charlie motioned for Harry to go down the steps, grateful for Harry’s trust when he did it without questioning him.

Harry stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning around, taking in the bare hooks on the wall, the empty shelves, the dais in the middle of the cellar. The pool bubbled and steamed in the far corner. Charlie watched from the lowest step on the stairs, his arms resting against the cross-beam as he watched Harry looking around.

“Charlie, this is…”

“This is why I reacted so badly at St. Mungo’s. That morning, when I got back from Paris, I came down here for the first time in years. I cleaned it up, vanished all the...equipment. I wanted to get it ready, in case.”

Harry walked to the wooden platform in the middle, and ran his hands along the smooth wood. He turned to look at Charlie. “In case you wanted to use it again?”

“I hadn’t been able to let Remus go, but for the first time since he’d died, I wanted to share this place with someone. And then I was called to St. Mungo’s, and found out you were Black. And I--”

“You’d finally been ready move on, and then you discovered that Black and I both betrayed you,” Harry turned and looked at Charlie. “I’m sorry.”

“After losing Remus, I never thought that I’d find someone else. Then...Black happened, The more we met, I realized that Black was someone I could be with, for more than just a night in a sex club.”

Charlie stepped off the stair and walked towards Harry. “I get why you didn’t want me to know it was you. If you’d walked into the room that first night as you, we’d never would’ve had what we had. So that means that I have to be glad that you did it.”

“What are you saying?”

Charlie stopped a foot away from Harry. “I miss what we had, I miss Black.” Charlie studied Harry’s face trying to read his reaction but failing. Taking a deep breath he plunged on, “But it was a one-sided relationship, I need to know if you think we can try again, but we need to make it work as Charlie and Harry, and not just Red and Black.”

“I am willing to try.” Harry straightened, “But I need to tell you something else, before this goes any farther. Can we go upstairs?”

Charlie started to object but then realized that Harry was right. The cellar wasn’t for conversations.

They went back up the stairs and Charlie closed the trap door as Harry went back to the main room. Charlie found him standing by the fireplace.

“I need to tell you this because I want everything out in the open, I’m hoping you don’t get angry.” Harry was rubbing the back of his head and Charlie started to get worried about what he had to confess. “This goes way back--the night before Bill’s wedding. I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.” Harry turned towards the fireplace, his hands resting on the mantle.

“You went for a walk? And…?”

“I walked through the garden and that’s when I heard you and Remus, out in your dad’s shed. At first I couldn’t figure out what was going on, or who it was, but it didn’t take long to realize that….” Harry’s entire body was taut, Charlie could see his shoulder blades drawn back and the tense muscles in his forearm.

Charlie sank down in his chair, trying to get his mind around a teenaged Harry listening to one of his sessions with Remus. He remembered that night, Remus had been giving him a lesson in obedience, since Charlie had said he wouldn’t go back to Romania after the wedding. It was clear that things were coming to a head and he wanted to be in England. Charlie knew that Remus would be in the thick of it and had been terrified that something would happen to him, but the senior Order members, including Remus, had insisted that he continue to try to build support amongst the European countries.

“That must’ve been quite educational.”

“I didn’t even really understand it...BDSM isn’t exactly covered in the Hogwarts curriculum, and is just joked about in the locker room. But I heard you two, and it was so hot, I didn’t even realize I was bi until then, but I had my hand on my cock before I even thought about it being two blokes going at it.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh, “You were what? Seventeen? Eighteen? You probably got hard if the wind blew up your robes. Don’t worry, I can’t be mad about something that happened that long ago. If it had been me on the other side of the shed, sure as fuck I would’ve wanted to listen. Is that what got you started? I’ve been wondering a lot about how you got into the scene.”

Harry nodded. “I couldn’t get it out of my head. And I wanted it. I thought that maybe it was the answer. To be held down and feel the strikes. I was in a bad place that first year after Hogwarts. I realize now that I was wanting to be punished for all the awards and praise that I didn’t deserve, but back then I was trying to find a way out of the darkness and that seemed the way.”

“Who… did you find what you are looking for?” Charlie knew all too well the danger of being an inexperienced sub, he’d been fortunate that he’d had Remus. He’d heard horror stories from other subs that had had so-called Doms who mistook the needs of a sub for permission to abuse.

“Not at first, it was bad. I went to some low-rent places, hoping to hide who I was.” Harry gave a shudder. “Fortunately, very fortunately, I met a sub who hooked me up with a good Dom. And it was he who suggested that I was looking in the wrong place. That I needed to be on the other end of the whip.”

“When did you start at the club?”

“Three years ago, I had a lot of assignments in France, and it became a convenience to be able to relieve the tension on my off hours. Took the suite because I needed to be away from the main floor and it became my _pied-à-terre_.”

“And then you saw me,” Charlie said more to himself than to Harry.

“Then I saw you,” Harry affirmed. “I’d wondered for years if maybe you had a secret partner, that you didn’t feel comfortable bringing to England. And I hadn’t realized how serious you and Remus had been, until Paris.”

“We got together soon after I left Hogwarts. Seven years in all but, obviously, a lot of that time was spent apart, but we lived for the times we could be together.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

“I am, too. He was an amazing man.” Charlie straightened up, “But he is gone and what Black did was make me realize that it is high time to move on.”

Harry closed the distance between them and put his hands on Charlie’s hips, pulling him forward. Charlie ran his hands along Harry’s arms to his shoulders.

“Do you know why Black never kissed you? Everything we did, I never kissed you.” Charlie shook his head as Harry’s hands slipped around his waist. “I wanted to kiss you as Harry. I didn’t want Black to have that first kiss...”

Harry pressed his lips against Charlie’s, his whiskers brushing against Charlie as their chins rubbed together. Charlie nipped at his lower lip and Harry gave a hum of pleasure.

Considering everything they’d already done together, a kiss on the mouth shouldn’t have been so electric, but it was. Harry tightened his arms around Charlie, walking him backwards until he was pressed against the wall. Harry was already hard when he pushed his hips against Charlie’s, the painful friction of denim didn’t stop Charlie from rutting back as they kissed, open-mouthed and wet. Charlie slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt, needing to feel skin. Harry’s hands were on Charlie’s arse, squeezing and pulling him closer. Harry pulled back, his pupils blown wide, chest heaving.

“We can make this work, not just like it was, me with a whip and you bound.” Harry looked at him searchingly. “I know we can be more than that.”

“How much more?” Charlie asked.

“A lot more.”

“Tell me,” Charlie said hoarsely “Tell me what you want.”

“What do I want?” Harry responded as Black. “I want eggs and bacon at the kitchen table, nights of chess games by the fire, I want to slide under the covers while you are sleeping, take you into my mouth, and feel you grow hard as you wake up to my tongue on your cock.” Harry stroked Charlie’s cock through his jeans. Charlie closed his eyes at the pleasure and pain of it.

Harry leaned forward and licked a spot just behind Charlie’s ear, whispering, “But what I want to do right now is make you come like this, make you come in your jeans like a fifteen year old who can’t control himself, hot and sticky.”

Charlie didn’t doubt he could, it had been far too long and he’d been on edge for days. Harry’s hands continued their slow strokes along his length. “And then I’m going to unbutton your jeans and lick the come off of your cock.”

Charlie shuddered, he could feel the heat building in his balls, Harry’s fingers massaging them while the palm of his hand pressed against Charlie’s cock.

“When I’ve licked you clean, you are going to blow me, with your cock hanging out of your unbuttoned jeans. I’m going to fuck your mouth with you on your knees.”

“More.”

“I’m going to come all over your face, and I’ll feed every drop of it to you to lick off my fingers. Then we are going into the bathroom and I’m going to fix that ridiculous hair of yours, and shave you, shave your chest, pubes, legs, everything.” Harry hadn’t stopped stroking him and Charlie’s cock chaffed against the rough denim. “After I shave you, I’m going to tie you to that bed of yours, arms tied down tight and your legs trussed up so you are exposed and open for me.”

Charlie groaned and wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling Harry tight against him. “I’m going to get a bucket of snow. To rub against your cock and balls. Hot and cold. I’ll fuck you with my tongue and then with my ice cold fingers until you--”

He came.

Thrusting and straining against Harry’s hand as he continued to stroke him, more gently than before causing Charlie to groan with pleasure and pain as his orgasm subsided. “You are so gorgeous when you come,” Harry whispered in his ear as he ran his hand over the growing wet spot. And then he kneeled in front of Charlie, licking the wet spot as Charlie fought to regain his breath.

“Unbutton your jeans.”

Charlie wasn’t wearing any pants and Harry gave a growl as Charlie pulled his jeans down enough to expose his cock and groin, covered in come. Harry leaned forward to lick and Charlie put his hands on Harry’s shoulder. Harry pulled back with a frown. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“Put your arms up against the wall,” Harry said, his voice dropping low into Black’s voice. Knowing what was coming, Charlie didn’t hesitate as Harry drew his wand.

“May I?” Harry asked in Black’s voice.

“Merlin, yes.” Charlie raised his arms over his head, a moan of need escaping from him as Harry cast the incarcerous charm and his arms were tightly bound to the wall by black ribbons.

“That is what we were missing,” Harry said as he looked Charlie up and down. Charlie spread his legs apart, tightening the binding and Harry stood up to kiss him, Charlie could taste his own come on Harry’s lips. His cock that was already half-erect again.

Harry kneeled down again. “Don’t move,” he warned Charlie. Charlie gritted his teeth, knocking his head against the wall as Harry ran his tongue along his cock. Harry took his time licking the come from his cock and groin. Even though he’d come just minutes earlier every touch of Harry’s tongue drove Charlie wild with need. The bindings cut into his wrist as he strained against the restraints and he was grateful for the pain as he fought to keep control.

At last, Harry stood up, a satisfied grin on his face as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “What did I say would happen next?”

“I’m to blow you,” Charlie said, glancing down at the obvious bulge in Harry’s jeans.

“It is a shame to release you, you look so gorgeous bound like that.” Harry ran his hand over Charlie’s abdominal muscles that were stretched tight. “But I can’t wait to feel your tongue on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie’s mouth was watering and he licked his lips in anticipation. Harry’s eyes were on his mouth and he leaned forward and lightly bit Charlie’s lower lip, tugging it with his teeth. Without warning the bindings gave way and Charlie fell forward into Harry.

“Eager.” Harry said with a grin even though he’d obviously released the bindings using wandless magic. He took Charlie’s place against the wall, and pushed down on Charlie’s shoulders.

Charlie didn’t need to be told twice, and he dropped in front of him. Harry reached down and rubbed against the line of his erection. Charlie’s mouth watered as he watched as Harry unbuttoned the fastener on his jeans one by one, stopping half way down, the side of his cock just visible. “It’s getting warm in here,” Harry remarked as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his tan chest and abdomen, a trail of dark hair leading downwards.

“I love that you can see me. I want your eyes on mine as I fuck your mouth.” Harry’s hand was in Charlie’s hair holding him in place, as his other undid the rest of the buttons and eased his cock out. Harry stroked himself slowly, the head of his cock gleaming with drops of come. “Open your mouth.”

Charlie obeyed. Harry rubbed the tip of his cock against Charlie’s lips, and Charlie trembled with the need to lick as he waited for permission. “Suck me.” Harry leaned fully back against the wall, his hand holding his cock by its base, as Charlie eagerly took him in, his eyes on Harry’s as he remembered all the tricks that had made Black groan when he’d been wearing the mask. Harry gripped Charlie’s hair with his other hand, as he started to roll his hips, fucking Charlie’s mouth, slowly at first, and then deeper as Charlie took him in.

Suddenly, Harry let go of Charlie’s hair and pulled his cock out of Charlie’s mouth as he started stroking himself, hard and fast, holding his cock inches from Charlie’s face. Charlie opened his lips, lapping at the cockhead in anticipation. Harry threw back his head and came with a roar, a hot stream of come hitting Charlie’s mouth, face, chin.

Harry dropped to his feet and kissed him, then began to lap up his own come from Charlie’s lips, chin, jaw. Charlie closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of Harry’s tongue as it rasped over his whiskers. At last Harry sat back, his lips red and swollen. Running his thumb over Charlie’s whiskers, Harry whispered, “I hope your razor is sharp.”

 

~|~|~|~

That night, Charlie lay awake, listening to the wind, as Harry slept beside him burrowed under a pile of covers. He ran his hand over his chest, the smoothness was an odd feeling. He hadn’t been this bare since he was a preteen. Harry had taken his time shaving him and even more time exploring Charlie’s hairless body.

Afterwards, Charlie had transformed the two armchairs into a sofa and they’d stretched out on it in front of the fire, spending the rest of the afternoon, in each other’s arms, talking. In the end they agreed that Harry would move in. More time had been spent talking about boundaries and the need to balance both sides of their relationship.

The wind howled outside, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, Charlie slipped out of bed and went over to the window. The full moon was shining down on the snowy valley. Leaning against the windowsill, Charlie watched as the wind whipped the trees branches and sent cyclones of snow dancing across the frozen ground. After what Harry had done with his bucket of snow, he didn’t think he’d ever look at a snow in quite the same way. He gave a little stretch, his overworked muscles still had a delicious ache to them, how he’d lived months without it, he didn’t know.

The mattress squeaked, and Charlie turned to see Harry walking towards him, dragging the duvet behind him. Standing behind Charlie, he wrapped the duvet around both of them like a cloak. Charlie leaned back into the cocoon of warmth as Harry rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder. They stood watching in silence as the moon came out from behind the clouds and the valley filled with moonlight. Charlie was reminded of the first night he’d spent with Black, looking through a different window.

“Seems like we should be smoking a cigarette.”

Charlie smiled, glad that he wasn’t alone in the thought. “I’ve given them up,” he said, turning to face Harry.

“Oh?”

Charlie leaned back against the window, spreading his legs and tugging Harry towards him.

“Found something more stimulating.”

“What’s that?”

“Something with sexy black hair, who always seems to have a bit of scruffy whiskers that feels incredible against my skin, and who can bring me to my knees with the crack of his whip,” Charlie said as he slipped his hand behind Harry’s neck.

Charlie brushed his lips against Harry’s, taking his time to savor and nibble at them before stringing kisses along Harry’s jaw. Gradually the lazy, soft kisses grew into passionate ones. Harry pressed against Charlie, their cocks rubbing together, and the duvet fell to the ground.

“Come to bed,” Harry whispered against Charlie’s lips, he took ahold of Charlie’s hand and tugged him towards the bed.

“What did you have in mind?” Charlie asked as he let Harry push him back on the mattress.

‘Sex so erotic we’ve never done it before.”

“Really?”

“Vanilla. No ties, no whips, no leather,” Harry said as he leaned down and began to kiss Charlie along his collarbone. “Just you and me.”

 

~|~|~|~

The Portkey landed them at the garden gate. Charlie looked up at the Burrow, there were lights in every window. Through the front window he could see the tree already decorated for Christmas. His father and mother were standing by the tree, their arms around one another, as they chatted with Ginny.

Harry and Charlie had come to the Burrow from Paris. For Christmas, Harry had given Charlie the fantasy he’d talked about their first night together. For two nights at the club, Charlie had been Harry’s slave. It had been everything he’d ever imagined: to exist just for the pleasure of another. Never before had he so completely fallen into the role. After they’d left the club, he’d been nearly blind with exhaustion, they’d spent two more nights at a Paris hotel and Charlie spent the days recovering, with Harry doting on his every need.

Charlie felt his pocket where the collar was coiled, he definitely would be putting it on again.  
Having had his own fantasy fulfilled, had made Charlie want to do the same for Harry. The only problem was the one fantasy that he was sure Harry wanted, was not one that he’d admitted to Charlie. Looking over Harry’s shoulder, to the garden where his father’s shed was, Charlie resolved to offer it to Harry and see what happens.

“Ready?” Harry asked. Charlie nodded. Arm in arm they walked slowly towards the house. They’d decided to surprise his family by not revealing they were together until they arrived.

Harry stopped at the base of the porch steps, “You sure you want to do this? We can keep it a secret…”

Charlie shook his head, and slipping his arms around Harry’s waist, he kissed him lightly on the lips and along his jaw. “It’s time, don’t you think?”

Harry grinned at him and kissed him back and they stood together in the wind-swept winter dead garden kissing until they heard Rose’s voice from the open back door ringing out as clear as a bell “Why is Uncle Charlie kissing Uncle Harry?”

 

~|~|~|~

In his parent’s cozy and cluttered front room, Charlie waited patiently as his family finally headed up the stairs to bed. Harry started to get up from the sofa, Charlie shook his head. “Wait.”

At last the good-nights were said and they were alone, Charlie got off the sofa and kneeled in front of Harry, his hands behind his back, head down. Harry immediately straightened up on the sofa.

“Black, I have a confession.” Charlie had a last minute qualm that Harry might not want what he was offering, but it was too late now, he was committed.

“What’s that?” Black asked.

“I spent a good part of the night eyeing Ginny’s boyfriend’s package.” .

Harry gave a bark of laughter, Ginny’s latest boyfriend, a Keeper on her Quidditch team, had worn traditional robes with extremely tight fitting breeches, Charlie doubted he was the only one that had noticed the man’s bits.

Harry's lips twitched as he said, “Then you'll need to be punished for that, Red.”

Charlie was glad that Harry was willing to play along, and he leaned forward and found the birch switch that he’d hidden under the sofa earlier. With open palms he offered it to Harry. “At the Burrow, punishments are dealt with out in the shed.”

 

-Fin-


End file.
